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They Were so Cunning, Such Playful Little Things. 



RED OF 




W-A-WILDE COMPANY 
BOSTON-CHICAGO 



G v 






Copyrighted, 1914 

By W. A. Wilde Company 

All rights reserved 



Wild Kindred of Fur, Feather and Fin 



JAN 14 1915 
©CI.A391345 



^ 



Dedicated to 
Abbie L. Hubbard 




I. 


White Claw, Glutton of the Woods . 


13 


II. 


How Lhoks Went Back to the 






Forest 


29 


III. 


The Trials of Peter Possum 


43 


IV. 


The Minnow Twins 


55 


V. 


How Porcupine Ridge was Settled 


69 


VI. 


Methusaleh, the Tyrant of Black 






Pond 


83 


VII. 


Mahug, the Champion Diver 


97 


VIII. 


Fierce Star Nose, the Burrower 


109 


IX. 


The Loyalty of Silver Wing, the 






Gull 


121 


X. 


HOW KOS-KO-MENOS, THE KINGFISHER, 






Won his Belt 


135 


XI. 


The Wit of Clown-Face, the Badger . 


149 


XII. 


The Sugar Camp on Lone Mountain 


163 


XIII. 


The Peril of the Snowy Egrets . 


179 


XIV. 


Mogul, Last Buffalo of the Herd 


193 


XV. 


The Last Panther on Cushman Range 


207 


XVI. 


How Ahmeek Saved his Grandfather . 


221 


XVII. 


Redbrush and the Thanksgiving 






Turkeys 


235 



8 


CONTENTS 




XVIII. 


The Escape of Keebuckh, the 






Coaster 


249 


XIX. 


How Mrs. Green-Frog Saved her 






Family 


263 


XX. 


The Adventure of Tommy Silversides 


273 


XXL 


Speckly of the Waterways . 


287 


XXII. 


The Taming of Bob White 


299 


XXIII. 


Trapped on Eagle Ledge 


313 


XXIV. 


How Silver Brush Saved his Pelt 


329 



PAGE 

They Were so Cunning, Such Playful Little 

Things Frontispiece 331 

The Wolverene Halted, Showing all his Sharp 
White Teeth, and Growled Hatefully at 
the Racoon 16 

The Buffalo Lowered his Shaggy Head, 
Lunged Straight for the Unprotected 
Stomach of the Bear 200 

One After Another They Would Slide Down 

as Fast as They Could Go . . . 258 



WHITE CLAW, GLUTTON OF THE WOODS 

JACK FROST comes early up in the North 
country. By September the face of the 
mountain changes ; between the thickets of 
dark balsam and spruce, the maples blaze blood- 
red and golden. All the wild things which in- 
tend to hibernate are laying in their winter 
stores and growing plump with good feeding ; 
they are making ready for their long sleep. 
Silver Coat, the squirrel, and all his tribe are 
frantically putting away provisions ; the bitter- 
sweet acorns loosened by the frost are falling 
from their cups. 

Lotor, the old racoon, cut his naps short these 
days. Even before twilight he now slid down 
from his pine tree nest, and the very first spot 
he hurried to visit was a certain wild grape-vine 
which trailed its snaky branches over the tops 
of a thicket of hemlocks, in a secret spot in the 
heart of a dense wood. It was a lucky day for 
him, so thought Lotor, when he chanced to dis- 

13 



14 WILD KINDRED OF 

cover the grape-vine, marking the spot for his 
own. In fact, so elated was Lotor over his find 
that he could barely spend time to take his all 
day naps ; even in his dreams he thought about 
the luscious grapes and growled in his sleep over 
imaginary rivals, fearing some one else should 
find the grapes and eat them while he slept. Al- 
ways when he arrived at the wild grape arbor 
he would hitch himself up hastily into the con- 
cealing vines, lest some other creature should 
be watching his movements. 

One evening he went early to the vines, and 
was soon feasting joyously upon the great, black 
luscious grapes, which happened to be the very 
juicy sort; soon the racoon's round, furry face, 
and his little eager, black paws were all spat- 
tered with the rich purple juice of the grapes. 
Lotor was enjoying himself so keenly that he 
quite forgot to move about from limb to limb 
with his usual silence Instead, he clawed in 
and out among the vines noisily in his haste to 
reach another spot where he saw other branches 
laden down with the luscious, black clusters. 
Down showered a mass of overripe grapes, pat- 
tering far below upon the mossy carpet of the 
woods. Thus it happened that White Claw, 
Glutton of the Woods, who was passing by, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 15 

looked up curiously into the trees to find out 
where the showering grapes came from, and 
having satisfied himself, without even waiting a 
second, began to climb hastily into the nearest 
tree. 

Now if there was one creature of the forest 
from whom Lotor the racoon wished to keep his 
secret, it was none other than the greedy wolver- 
ene, nicknamed White Claw, Glutton of the 
Woods. White Claw was almost as large as his 
cousin, the little black bear. His tribe were 
now few and widely scattered, which was per- 
haps a good thing for all the other denizens of 
the forest, because the wolverene is such a ter- 
rific glutton that wherever he happens to roam, 
he is sure to devour everything eatable along his 
trail. So fearfully determined and persistent is 
he when in pursuit of a meal that he is a terror 
to most dwellers of the woods. 

Full of sly craftiness is the wolverene. An 
Indian tale is told of one of his tribe who 
longed for deer meat. This wolverene knew 
that deer are fond of a certain kind of moss. 
So, selecting a spot where the deer came to 
drink, the wolverene strewed little heaps of this 
particular moss along their trail. Then he 
climbed a tree, lying out upon a low limb with 



16 WILD KINDRED OF 

flattened body, and waited. When the deer 
came to feed upon the moss, then the sly fellow 
dropped down like a shot upon an unsuspecting 
deer. Oh, White Claw had many crafty tricks 
at his command. But now he was after grapes. 
The racoon saw him plainly enough and watched 
him with fascinated eyes. Of a brownish black 
was the heavy coat of the wolverene, which 
showed plainly enough through the tangle of 
vines. His blunt snout bore a lighter streak of 
brown fur running back to his neck, but stran- 
gest of all were the jet black feet of the wolver- 
ene, while the sharp, cruel-looking claws which 
he dug deeply into the bark of the tree as he 
climbed were white and gleaming. This pecu- 
liarity served well to mark him, setting him 
apart from all other wild things of the trails, 
and well enough Lotor the racoon knew the in- 
stant he spied those white claws with whom he 
had to deal. 

Having reached a broad crotch in the hem- 
lock, the wolverene could go no further, because 
just ahead of him in his very path perched a 
great soft mass of gray fur. So the wolverene 
halted, showing all his sharp white teeth, and 
growled hatefully at the racoon. Then, steadily, 
never taking his fascinated green eyes from the 




The Wolverene Halted, Showing all his Sharp White 
Teeth, and Growled Hatefully at the Racoon. 



FUR, FEATHEK AND FIN 17 

wolverene, the racoon began to back away. At 
the same time the Glutton drew nearer and 
nearer, his object being to force Lotor from the 
tree. Finally, poor Lotor could proceed no 
further ; he had reached the' tip end of the limb ; 
it rocked and shook with his weight, but still he 
clung to it with all his might, using his little 
black finger-like claws to keep from falling. 
With a sudden ugly snarl, the Glutton, seeing 
his advantage, shot out his cruel white claws 
into the very face of the racoon, and Lotor, with 
a childish, whimpering cry of fear, lost his hold 
and fell. Vainly he clutched at the vines as he 
went down, sending showers of ripe grapes pelt- 
ing about him, finally landing half-stunned far 
below. The wolverene, peering over a limb 
curiously, to satisfy himself that he had beaten 
the racoon, lost no more time, but instantly be- 
gan feeding upon the luscious grapes, hastening 
to gorge himself in his glutton-like way and 
working among the vines until he had actually 
stripped them of every grape. 

Off in the heart of Balsam Swamp stood a 
giant basswood tree. Its trunk was roomy, and 
partially decayed, and if you were to place your 
,ear against its hoary sides, you might readily 
hear the fine, high, musical hum of its inmates, 



18 WILD KINDRED OF 

the bees. Year after year they had lived in this 
particular tree, one colony after another, and no 
wonder ; for this was the finest honey land to be 
found. Down in the marshes there were such 
flowers ; first, early in spring, almost before 
snow had melted, in among the low-growing 
mosses, hid shy bunches of pinky-white arbutus, 
the sweetest blossoms filled with fragrant nectar. 
So from earliest spring until Jack Frost came 
again, the flowers bloomed, covering the marshes 
like a gay patterned rug, pink, velvet-headed 
milkweed, lavender asters, and billows of golden- 
rod flowers, all heavy with their perfumes. 

The little black bear mother knew all about 
the basswood tree and the bees who lived in it. 
She had been planning her annual visit there 
for weeks, and one fine day she shambled down 
from the mountain ridges, followed closely by 
her two small cubs. But the little mother bear 
was just too late. She had her long journey all 
for nothing, for when she came to the basswood 
tree, she saw above it a great swarming, black 
mass of very angry bees. Some robber had evi- 
dently visited the tree ahead of her and the 
golden honey had all been stolen, leaving not 
even a bit for the winter food of the poor de- 
frauded bees. 



FUR, FEATHEH AND FIN 19 

Now White Claw, the Glutton, lived many 
miles away, but one day he craved hone}% so, 
craftily he commenced to watch the flowers very 
intently. Finally, he had the good luck to 
trail a honey bee, which led him straight to its 
home in the basswood tree in the heart of the 
swamp. At the very time Moween, the mother 
bear, and her cubs reached the tree, White Claw 
himself, heavily gorged with honey, was wallow- 
ing contentedly right in the center of an oozy 
bed of mud, trying to rid himself of a few 
angry bees which persisted in clinging to his 
thick fur coat and had succeeded in stinging his 
snout rather badly. Many furious bees hung in 
a cloud right over his mud bed, but White Claw 
was far too crafty for them; he just remained 
right there in the soft, pleasant marsh mud until 
moonrise ; then, his stings ceased to smart, be- 
cause of the cooling mud. Having rid himself 
of the sticky honey, and best of all, his trouble- 
some enemies, he sauntered off upon his travels 
once again. In this high-handed manner did 
White Claw, the greedy one, live. If there was 
anything good to eat in the forest, eventually he 
discovered it. 

' Over on the edge of Beaver Creek in a secret, 
sheltered spot, where the great spruces stand 



20 WILD KINDRED OF 

more dense, silent, and taller than in any other 
place in the forest, lived the remainder of a once 
mighty beaver colony. The old beaver leader 
had selected this particular place for building 
his village after searching widely for an unmo- 
lested spot where they might not be spied upon, 
for this the beaver dreads more than anything 
else in the world. 

Night after night had the timorous beavers 
worked, building up a fine dam, laying hun- 
dreds of logs horizontally, then batting them 
down into place with hard, mud cement, which 
they made, filling in the chinks with branches 
and stones. They had delayed building their 
winter quarters until they had finished the won- 
derful dam. Then they built seven fine huts, 
five or six full-grown beavers occupying each 
hut The smooth, wet, mud roofs glistened 
beautifully as they rounded them off symmet- 
rically, slapping down the mud quite evenly 
and neatly with their flat spade-like tails, which 
they used exactly as one does a trowel. Soon 
the frost would come and strengthen the soft 
mud walls and roofs ; then, when the creek was 
frozen solidly over, all the beavers would retire 
to rest in the snug chambers of their huts. So 
ever}' day now, they were engaged in cutting 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 21 

logs into short lengths ; these they carried into 
the huts, storing them conveniently to nibble on 
when hard winter really set in. 

In spite of the shyness of the beavers, work- 
ing, as they did so secretly, even at night, there 
was one who in spite of all their secret methods 
well knew all about their plans, had been 
watching them at their work for days and days. 
Chancing one day to stroll through the forest 
along the banks of Beaver Creek one night, 
White Claw suddenly heard a well-known and 
very delightful sound, nothing less than the slap 
of a beaver's tail, a sound he had not heard for 
years. Instantly, he knew there were beavers 
about and not so very far off. The creature 
craftily laid his plans ; he would have a great 
and glorious feast, perhaps the finest of his life, 
for if there is one thing which the wolverene 
loves better than anything else it is beaver 
meat. 

Well enough did White Claw know that the 
beavers work best at night, usually resting 
through the day in their huts. So, very craft- 
ily, he determined to delay his feasting that he 
might catch them unawares, because sly White 
Claw did not care to run up against a whole 
colony of beavers, for they have very sharp 



22 WILD KINDRED OF 

claws, and wide, spade-like teeth, strong enough 
to fell a tree. No, White Claw would not run 
the risk of meeting the colony ; he therefore 
stayed his pressing appetite with a rabbit, then 
climbed a tree from which he could watch the 
beavers at their work. Lying out flat upon a 
limb he saw them putting the finishing touches 
to their huts. They worked very rapidly ; White 
Claw could not understand their pressing haste ; 
in fact they worked all that night and the next 
day without stopping. So the wolverene, hun- 
gry as he was, had to stay in the tree until they 
finished work and retired to their huts. 

Thus did White Claw bide his time, thinking 
to himself all the while how foolish it was of 
the beavers to work so desperately hard. Grad- 
ually the air grew keener and colder. Finally 
the beavers, at a signal from the^old leader, left 
off their work and went into their huts. White 
Claw knew he must wait until they were sound 
asleep, so he remained in the tree. The moon 
rose pale and cold over the creek, and soon the 
water beneath him was frozen over, and then 
the wolverene began to climb down from his re- 
treat. 

All about the beaver huts the wise beavers 
had dug deep trenches, into which the water 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 23 

had flowed and was now frozen over with thick, 
blue ice. Hardly able to restrain his pressing 
hunger, White Claw came to the nearest hut and 
struck his heavy claws into the smooth roof, ex- 
pecting it to crumble instantly at his touch, and 
disclose the helpless, sleeping beavers. Imagine 
his dismay when the roof failed to yield or break 
beneath his claws ! Then he learned that he 
could never break it open ; it was frozen hard, 
the roof was as firm as a rock, and the greedy 
White Claw was just too late. The beavers had 
been far wiser than the wolverene; they knew 
just when a great freeze might be expected ; that 
is why they worked so diligently trying to get 
their roofs and walls up, hoping to finish them 
before the great Frost Spirit arrived. Thus was 
White Claw the Glutton outwitted by Jack 
Frost, and the gentle, hard-working beavers 
saved from the frightful white claws of the cruel 
one. 

As you can well imagine, the wolverene was 
now fiercely angry and almost mad with his 
pressing hunger, so for the time his usually keen 
wits deserted him. All he thought about now 
was to find something to eat. He growled 
crossly to himself and slunk back into the 
woods. Vainly he searched many old, well-re- 



24 WILD KINDRED OF 

membered trails looking for the game scent. 
The sudden change of weather had sent most of 
the wild things back into their snug burrows ; 
they would not venture out until hunger 
pressed. Once White Claw spied Redbrush, the 
fox, off on a distant trail. The wolverene struck 
across by a short cut hoping to head him off, 
but Redbrush, the crafty one, came out ahead of 
the trail, actually pausing a second to send back 
at the wolverene an impudent, leering kind of 
grin, then bounding off upon another track. 

At last the wolverene determined to take any- 
thing which came across his trail ; he was far 
too hungry now to be dainty about his food. 
He passed by a great, decayed log. Surely 
something had moved, right in one end of the 
log. Suddenly he began to dig out heaps of 
brown leaves which had been stuffed into the 
log. He dug furiously, and finally out rolled a 
sleepy porcupine. Usually White Claw would 
have spurned such fare, but quite overcome by 
his long fast he made a hasty meal of the 
hedgehog, which was so stupified with sleep it 
did not bother him greatly. Then it happened, 
the next morning when certain of the wild 
kindred passed over that trail, they halted 
rather curiously to inspect a large, round mass 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN" 25 

of dark fur which Jack Frost had lightly 
sprinkled over with glittering frost crystals. It 
was the wolverene, dead right in his tracks. 
Over his cruel jaws he still held his white gleam- 
ing claws, trying vainly to rid himself of the 
sharp quill which had penetrated his brain. 
Thus ended the greedy career of White Claw, 
terror of all the wild, and the greatest glutton 
in all the woods. 



II 

HOW LHOKS WENT BACK TO THE FOREST 

LHOKS, the panther, peered sullenly and 
discontentedly forth from behind the bars 
of his cage at the curious crowd of people who 
stared in at him, and baring his sharp white 
teeth angrily, snarled at them crossly. Again 
he resumed his uneasy pad, pad, padding walk, 
up and down the narrow floor of his prison, 
which, with six other similar gaily painted cages, 
occupied by other unfortunate wild animals, be- 
longed to a small traveling menagerie. 

Lhoks was a handsome animal, and the boys 
and girls who gathered in crowds around his 
cage gazed at him with round eyes of admiring 
awe. He happened to be a very large specimen 
of his kind, measuring about eleven feet in 
length. His coat w T as reddish-brown, now 
grown somewhat shabby, owing to his long con- 
finement in the narrow cage. A small patch of 
white fur marked either side of his muzzle. 
His snarling lips showed jet black, also the tip 

29 



30 WILD KINDRED OF 

of his tail, which he lashed angrily. His eyes, 
which Lhoks half closed when angry or cross, 
were of gleaming greenish yellow, showing 
golden lights. Over his cage door one might 
read : " Panther, or American Lion." 

It happened three years before, that Lhoks 
and two other small panther cubs had been 
left alone by the old panthers, who went off to 
hunt ; feeling lonely, but full of mischief and 
play, they came out of their safe den, to frolic 
upon a wide flat ledge. There upon the rock 
they all played together happily, rolling over 
each other and cuffing with their clumsy kitten- 
like paws. And there the hunter came across 
them, and so young and unafraid were the 
small panthers that they allowed the man to 
carry them off. When the old panthers re- 
turned to the den it was quite empty ; their 
babies were gone. For days and days they fol- 
lowed vainly the long trail of the robber, with 
red, revengeful eyes, but they never caught up 
with him, hunt as they might. 

Two of the cubs died in captivity, but Lhoks, 
strong and more lusty than the others, lived. 
For three years he had traveled with the men- 
agerie, but oh, how he hated the life, and with 
all the longing in his heart, he would dream, in 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 31 

his wild way, of the dark, balsam scented 
woods, the safe retreats, where he might hide 
in secret, silent places of his forest. Most of all 
did he hate the blare of the loud music, which 
made him howl, and deeply too did he resent 
the staring eyes of the curious crowds. Sullenly 
he would glower back at them. Often he felt 
weak and sick in the close confining quarters of 
his hated cage ; so much so, that he would 
stretch out his tawny body miserably upon the 
floor and lie there for hours. But alas for poor 
Lhoks during show hours, should he chance to 
appear stupid and sleepy and ill when the people 
came to stare at him ! Then some one was sure 
to reach into his cage with a long red pole, to 
the end of which was attached a cruel, sharp 
spike, and then they would poke and prod the 
poor animal until he got upon his feet. Just 
one sharp prod of the spike was usually enough 
to make Lhoks jump up and snarl and begin 
once more his endless pacing back and forth, 
from end to end of his prison. 

Then the delighted crowd would shiver and 
exclaim at his dreadful fierceness, and often 
poke him playfully with canes or umbrellas, 
just to make him yell loudly. The howls of 
Lhoks the panther were terrifying, and when he 



32 WILD KINDRED OF 

screamed out it usually stirred up all the other 
animals of the menagerie. Then King, an old, 
toothless lion, would roar, and two slinky, lean 
hyenas who occupied a green cage right next 
to Lhoks would sound their disagreeable cry, 
the beautiful gentle gazelle would shiver and 
tremble with fear, and there would be much ex- 
citement. 

If Lhoks hated the crowds, he soon learned to 
dread most of all the long, overland journeys 
by rail. Then the cages would all be loaded 
upon freight cars, and for days they would 
rumble and jolt and sway dizzily in their close, 
ill-smelling quarters ; if water was not handy, 
sometimes the attendants neglected them, and 
forgot that the poor caged things were very 
thirsty. Often at the end of a trip they ar- 
rived faint, car-sick, and so exhausted they 
were barely able to stagger to their cramped 
legs. 

The season for the menagerie was drawing to 
its close, and they were about to go East for the 
winter. The glittering cages had been opened 
to the public for the last time in a small Western 
town, where the wondering boys and girls had 
taken their last look at Lhoks, the panther, and 
his wild companions. The last cage had been 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 33 

loaded upon the train, and the long, heavy 
freight started out upon its journey. Old King, 
the lion, had died, and most of the other ani- 
mals showed only too plainly the effects of their 
long confinement and hard life. The tawny 
coat of poor Lhoks was shabbiest of all. It 
actually looked moth-eaten in places, and his 
sides showed plainly enough the scars which the 
sharp spike had made. His ribs were seen 
through his lean hide, for he had almost lost 
his appetite ; he felt weak and discouraged. So 
he just lay stretched listlessly upon the floor of 
his cage, while the long train jolted and screamed 
its way across the flat country of the West. 
Fortunately, the cage of the panther had been 
placed in such a position that Lhoks soon dis- 
covered that by standing upon his hind legs he 
could actually peer out through his small, grated 
window at the country through which they 
journeyed. In this respect, he was more lucky 
than the others, for the gazelle and hyena cages 
had been placed with their small, ventilating 
windows pushed up against the other cages, so 
they could not look out. 

For many days, whenever Lhoks chanced to 
look forth from his small window, they ap- 
peared to be passing over the same flat, uninter- 



34 WILD KINDRED OF 

esting plain, although occasionally he caught a 
fleeting glimpse of forest and hills in the dis- 
tance. At night he would lie flat, gazing up 
longingly, managing to catch a peep at the little 
winking stars, and sometimes, when it was 
bright moonlight, he would grow very restless 
and unhappy, pacing up and down, howling 
dismally. How he hated the commotion and 
loud noises about the freight yards, when their 
train was shunted back and forth over switches, 
creaking and squealing, with much loose rat- 
tling of rusty iron couplings, and yells from the 
trainmen, who swung red-eyed lanterns, and 
ran swiftly and lightly over the tops of the 
cages. 

Finally, after many weary days, for their train 
was a very slow one, Lhoks began to brighten 
up, for the air which now found its way into his 
close cage had begun to change and freshen ; now 
he would stand at his small, barred window and 
sniff in long drafts of it with keen delight. 
Also, Lhoks saw that they had now left the dis- 
agreeable, flat country, and were speeding 
through wild forests, where giant spruce and 
pines grew dense and tall. Off in the distance 
there were glimpses of purple chains of moun- 
tains, and rolling, peaceful hills. From that 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 35 

time on, Lhoks became a changed animal ; as by 
magic all his weariness appeared to vanish ; he 
was once more himself, wild and alert. All 
night he would stand now at the window just 
breathing in the tonic of this fine, new air, the 
bracing odors which came from thousands of 
fragrant balsams and pines. For, although 
Lhoks did not suspect it, he happened to be pass- 
ing, at that time, right through the very heart 
of his own home country, the land where per- 
haps even then his parents were still roving wild 
and free through the hidden jungles of the great 
North woods. 

The long, snake-like train rumbled and 
screeched its way through the night, hooting 
and echoing through the deep mountain cuts, 
then gliding out over long moonlit stretches, 
where moist, woodsy odors came in waves to 
poor Lhoks in his prison cage. 

" Chuck, chuck, chuck-chuck, chuck, " re- 
peated the iron car wheels, over and over again, 
almost like the rhythm of some tiresome song. 
Then, suddenly, on ahead, the great engine be- 
gan to send forth hoot after hoot, strange alarm 
cries, whistlings and screechings which echoed 
through the silent forest. Lhoks instinctively 
knew something had happened, and leaped to 



36 WILD KINDRED OF 

his feet. The next moment the heavy car, cages 
and all, had been tossed from the rails and lay a 
splintered mass at the foot of a deep cut. 

Something wonderful happened to Lhoks the 
panther, for his cage had chanced to fall right 
side up, and one wall of it had actually fallen 
out ; he was free — free at last. It took a few 
seconds for the poor wild thing to discover that 
he was a prisoner no longer, after spending so 
many long, hateful years in his close cage. But 
very soon all his old, wild nature asserted itself, 
and he made out that there were tall waving 
pines all about him, instead of walls and iron 
bars, and beneath a dense, black jungle of spruce 
— fine places to hide. But oh, he must be quick, 
or they would find him. Gathering up all his 
strength, with one long leap Lhoks, the captive, 
bounded off to his freedom and the shelter of 
the woods. 

Of course, in the excitement which followed 
the wreck, no one thought of looking for the 
panther ; for, as it happened, he was the only 
animal which had managed to escape alive. 
Lhoks could not travel so very fast at first, for 
he had a touch of rheumatism, and his legs 
were almost stiff from long confinement, while 
his usually sharp claws were quite worn off and 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 37 

dulled. So he skulked along the ground, hid- 
ing himself in some deep, woodsy retreat far 
away from the shouts of the trainmen. Having 
rested he finally began to take some interest in 
his appearance, groomed his roughened coat and 
sharpened his dull claws upon a log. Suddenly 
he realized that he was hungry. Oh, how de- 
lightedly did he quench his thirst at a beautiful, 
fern-grown pool. Then one day he discovered 
the trail of a lone wood-chopper and followed it 
for hours, because he began to feel lonely, and 
also was hungry. Perhaps he imagined that 
the man would feed him, as had his keeper. It 
was lucky for poor, trusting Lhoks that the man 
did not spy him, or he might have been shot, 
for the man would surely have supposed the 
panther was trailing him for its prey. 

Lhoks forsook the man's trail finally, and 
that day he managed to catch a rabbit, which 
served him very well. For weeks so wandered 
the poor, solitary panther all alone over the wild 
forest trails. Each day fresh strength and 
courage came to him ; already his tawny coat 
had lost its roughness ; the new hair was coming 
in, filling the deep scars upon his sides with soft, 
fine fur. Suddenly he began to feel so very 
happy that for sheer playfulness, and because of 



38 WILD KINDRED OF 

his loneliness, he would play kittenishly, rolling 
and pawing about a round stone which he found ; 
springing high in the air he would often chase 
his own shadow down the moonlit trails ; occa- 
sionally, he would strive to gain some almost 
forgotten scent, then he would lift his black 
muzzle and utter a long, lonely yell — a cry in 
the night, once heard, never forgotten, this yell 
of a panther — -just a pleading cry for his lost 
companions for whom he yearned. 

Once Lhoks met with an encounter which he 
never forgot. He happened upon a round ball 
of curious appearance which lay right in his 
path, and feeling in a playful mood, he boldly 
jumped at the thing, tossing it about. Then 
suddenly the bundle unrolled itself, an ugly, 
blunt snout appeared, and two sullen, angry eyes 
glared at him insolently. Before he could back 
away, a prickly tail slapped him smartly right 
across his soft, black muzzle, and it was filled 
with quills. After that, Lhoks the panther 
never forgot how Unk-Wunk, the porcupine, 
looked when he rolled himself into a ball and 
went to sleep upon the trail. It became harder 
to find food down in the lowlands, so Lhoks took 
to the mountain passes, and thus it happened, 
one memorable day, he chanced upon a strangely 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 39 

familiar, alluring scent. For a day he trailed it, 
drawing gradually nearer and nearer, and as he 
found the scent keener, Lhoks began to feel 
greatly excited, filled with courage and hope, 
for he had stumbled across an old trail of one 
of his own kindred. 

Although the panther, or mountain lion, is 
not at present so very common in the North 
country, occasionally, back in some solitary sec- 
tion, right in the heart of the wild mountain 
forests, where even the woodman's axe has not 
been heard, there still lurk a few of the panther 
tribe. 

With his wild senses all alert, Lhoks now con- 
tinued to follow patiently the trail. It brought 
him at last out upon a plateau, or clearing. 
Closer and closer to the edge of the ledgy pla- 
teau crept Lhoks, now crawling low upon his 
stomach, exactly like a cat. Then, having 
gained the edge, hanging his great tawny head 
over the rock, he peered with curious, wistful 
eyes at the strangely beautiful sight spread just 
beneath him. Upon a jutting rock frolicked 
five panther cubs ; little furry creatures they 
were, barred with dark tiger-like stripes, as are 
all young panthers. There in the sunshine they 
were playing innocently, while Lhoks watched 



40 WILD KINDRED OF 

them wistfully and anxiously, with half-shut, 
curious, yellow eyes, his whole body shaking 
and trembling with nervous longing to be with 
them. Even the tip of his tail lashed the rock 
frantically, so interested had he become in the 
kitten cubs. They were quite alone, for the 
mother panther, having lost her mate, was even 
now away seeking. food for them. 

At last, unable to withstand the cunning 
ways of the cubs an instant longer, Lhoks 
leaped lightly down among them, and so trusting 
were they that he became acquainted with them 
at once. When the mother panther returned, 
she found a stranger with her babies, playing 
with them, letting them roll over him and tease 
him roughly, mauling him about as they would, 
while Lhoks, the lonely one, lay stretched out 
contentedly purring for sheer happiness. 
Strangely enough the mother panther did not 
resent the appearance of Lhoks ; perhaps she 
imagined he would be useful in helping her 
forage for food for her family. At any rate, she 
welcomed him with peaceful purrs, and so all 
was well. Thus did Lhoks, the panther, come 
back to his kindred once again in the heart of 
the great forest. 



Ill 

THE TEIALS OF PETER POSSUM 

PETER POSSUM was in great trouble, for 
he had lost his mate. No wonder that he 
felt strangely lonely and sad. Most of the 
opossum tribe are noted for their love of family 
and companionship. Peter had been born and 
reared in the South, right in the heart of a great 
cypress swamp, an ideal spot for the home of 
any possum. Dark and lonely was the swamp 
jungle, with its tall pines and giant gum and 
cypress trees beneath which lay trackless thick- 
ets of thorn and holly, while trailing in long, 
snaky lengths over all, grew matted bamboo 
vines and hanging mosses which looked like 
long gray beards. 

Months before, Peter and his mate had built 
for themselves a deep, new nest down in the 
hollow heart of a giant cypress tree. And now 
what worried Peter most of all was that wher- 
ever Mrs. Possum now might be, she had carried 
away their eleven little possum babies with her 

43 



44 WILD KINDRED OF 

in her velvet-lined pouch or pocket which she 
wore for that especial purpose in her side. 

Not until all the little possums were large 
enough to be trusted outside alone would their 
fond mother allow them to leave this velvet- 
lined pouch. The little possums, when she 
went away, were just about the size of mice, 
with sharp, pink noses, tiny wriggling tails, bits 
of beady, black eyes, and the softest, mole-like 
fur coats. Little helpless things they were. 
No wonder, then, that Peter was full of anxiety 
and almost dazed over the mysterious disappear- 
ance of all his family. Vainly he searched for 
them all through the swamp in their usual 
haunts, but no trace could he discover of Mrs. 
Possum and her pocketful of little possums. 

It had been two whole nights now since Mrs. 
Possum had been away from the home nest. As 
Mrs. Possum had a habit of going off alone oc- 
casionally, Peter had not thought much about it 
the first night she was away, for, to tell the 
truth, that same night he had taken a secret 
trip into the far end of the swamp, just to see if 
a certain gnarled, old persimmon tree which he 
happened to remember was going to bear fruit 
that year. 

So off Peter had started, all b}' himself. It 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 45 

was very pleasant to stroll through the swamp 
on a moonlight night, and really Peter traveled 
much farther than he had intended. Suddenly, 
right in the direction of his home tree, he heard 
a horrible din which actually made his long, 
wavy gray fur rise right up from his fat back. 

" Wow-wow-ooo-oo-o I " It was the hounds ; 
they were out in full cry ; they were scouring 
the swamp for possums or racoons. Peter was 
thankful now that he was not at home. Surely, 
he thought, Mrs. Possum, whom he had left at 
home with the eleven little possums, would have 
tact enough not to show even the tip of her 
sharp snout outside the nest while the hounds 
were about. But in spite of all this, Peter was 
uneasy about his family ; so, without even find- 
ing out if the old persimmon tree would bear 
fruit that season, he made a bee-line for home. 

" Wow-oow, ow, ow, ooo ! " Again the hounds 
bayed, and close at hand this time. Peter laid 
his small black ears tight to his head, as he 
streaked in and out of the tangled jungles, look- 
ing like a glint of something silvery when the 
moonbeams struck against his gray fur coat. 
Suddenly the hounds leaped right out in plain 
sight of Peter. Instantly he had spied them — 
three yellow terrors with their long flappy ears, 



4:6 WILD KINDRED OF 

eager, dribbling jaws, and red, bleary eyes, which 
could spy out a coon or possum, no matter how 
tall a tree he had climbed into to hide, 

This happened to be a lucky night for Peter, 
and he managed to save his gray pelt, reaching 
his home tree before the moon went down. 

He began to hitch and claw his way up the 
tree, not too hurriedly, because Peter was very 
fat. A fat possum cannot climb a large tree 
trunk very fast ; that is why a possum, if he is 
big and fat, will usually select a small tree when 
he wishes to climb out of danger very quickly. 
When Peter got up to the entrance of the nest, 
the gray, furry face of Mrs. Possum, with its 
round gentle eyes, was not there to greet him as 
usual. When he climbed down deep into the 
nest, no soft warm body was there to break his 
fall, and no gentle welcoming growl did he hear ; 
the nest was cold and empty. 

At first, Peter fancied that she had simply 
gone out of the nest to get a breath of fresh air, 
and perhaps allow the little possums to get a 
view of the swamp by moonlight, so he didn't 
worry so very much about her absence. Instead, 
he just rolled himself up and took a nap, expect- 
ing any minute to be awakened by the coming 
of his mate, when she rolled heavily down into 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 47 

the nest. At daybreak Peter awoke and still 
Mrs. Possum had not returned. Now Peter, in 
his funny possum way, was fond of his family, 
so instead of sleeping all that day, as he usually 
did, he started out to look for them. First, he 
took a peek away down below from the edge of 
the nest ; everything was already beginning to 
wake up for the day. Peter watched his hated 
neighbors, two old black buzzards, start off, and 
actually dodged quickly back into the nest as 
their great shabby, rag-like wings swept close to 
his gray coat. Once, when the buzzard family 
were away, and there were eggs in their nest, 
Peter and his mate were foolish enough to visit 
their untidy home to which the old birds returned 
before Peter and his mate could get away, and 
then one horrid old buzzard, with a twist of its 
ugly, skinny neck had " unswallowed " its break- 
fast upon Peter's fine fur coat. Such is the dis- 
gusting habit of all the buzzard tribe, and one 
such experience was enough for Peter ; he never 
went near the buzzards again. 

After the scavenger birds had disappeared from 
sight, Peter climbed high up into the top of his 
tree, where he could look far across the swamp. 
He saw away off beyond the swamp, the planta- 
tions, stretching as far as the eye could reach, and 



48 WILD KINDRED OF 

crisscrossing them in all directions the deep irri- 
gation ditches, where one might wander for miles, 
and become lost as in a city of many streets. 

Finally Peter went back into the nest again ; 
there he slept all day, expecting to hear the 
welcome scratching of Mrs. Possum's claws 
upon the tree trunk any moment. But in vain ; 
she did not come. Had she been caught by the 
hounds ? 

At sunset Peter watched the buzzards come 
sailing back home for the night and settle them- 
selves in their soiled feathers, looking just like 
two black bundles of rags clinging among the 
tufted pines. Then the whippoorwills away 
down close to the ground, hidden among the 
thorn tangles, began their lonely calls. And at 
last, unable to bear the loneliness a minute 
longer, Peter slid hastily down the tree into the 
shadows. Soon the moon, which was now big 
and yellow, came peeping through the dark 
pines, lighting up the dark places and finally, to 
his great joy, Peter actually stumbled upon the 
trail of his lost mate. 

Poor thing! She had not been able to travel 
very fast because she carried the eleven little 
possums in her pouch, so it was easy to follow 
her tracks, as her heavy body had left certain 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 49 

deep impressions in the soft moss. He dis- 
covered many places where she had stopped to 
rest — deep, round hollows ; perhaps she had lain 
low to keep away from the hounds. Peter 
followed her trail patiently, and at last he came 
to the edge of the plantations crossed by the 
maze of ditches, almost as deep as two men are 
high. Then Peter's troubles and trials began 
at the first ditch. He found where his mate had 
entered a ditch, gone over it for a long distance, 
then turned off uncertainly into still another 
ditch, finally coming back again to the very 
place she had started from. Oh, it was a very 
easy matter indeed to lose one's way in the 
perplexing ditches, and so all the next day Peter 
traveled hopefully up and down them, searching 
everywhere for his lost family. There was not 
much to eat in the ditches, although when very 
hard pressed by hunger, an opossum will eat 
anything. Opossums, you know, are really 
night scavengers. But you may be certain that 
the unpleasant old buzzards who float all day 
over the plantations, watching the ditches, had 
left little which a possum might care to eat. 

Next day Peter climbed out of the ditches and 
hid himself in a very thick holly tree, trusting 
that its prickly leaves would conceal him while 



50 WILD KINDRED OF 

he rested. When twilight came, again he took 
up his search in the ditches. Bravely poor 
Peter searched them night after night. Occa- 
sionally he came across a trap which some negro 
laborer had placed in the mouth of a ditch, 
hoping to catch a coon. But Peter managed to 
keep his feet out of them. 

Up and down, up and down, wearily searched 
the faithful Peter, occasionally rilled with great 
hope, for the scent which he followed would 
appear quite fresh and near, but the next moment 
he lost all clue again. At last, in spite of him- 
self, Peter had almost made up his mind to the 
terrible thought that his little gray-coated mate 
had been trapped, or perhaps she had become 
bewildered and lost her way in some deep, dark 
hole, finally perishing of hunger. Of course the 
little possums weighed her down heavily so she 
could never climb up out of the ditches. 

Peter very sadly and reluctantly made up his 
mind to give up his vain search and go back to 
the swamps again. But they say " Tis always 
darkest before dawn," and that very night when 
he was about to give up, he struck into an un- 
usually deep ditch. A stray moonbeam filtered 
down into the dark hole, lighting up the path 
ahead for some distance. Then, all of a sudden, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 51 



Peter thought he saw something moving toward 
him ; perhaps it was a coon, for dearly the coons 
love to roam through the broom-corn ditches 
when the young corn is in the milk. The 
longer Peter looked at the thing coming toward 
him, however, the less did it appear like a coon, 
and somehow, it seemed strangely familiar to 
him — the heavy swaying, waddling body ; and 
the next moment Peter saw, where the moon- 
light struck it, the thing was all silvery gray. 
The reason Peter did not recognize his little 
mate in the first place, for indeed it was Mrs. 
Possum herself, was just this : 

It seems that the eleven little possum babies 
had been gone so long, they had now quite out- 
grown their mother's pocket, and so she had let 
them all climb out upon her broad, silvery back. 
And in order to keep them together safely, she 
showed each little possum that by curling its 
tail tight around her own long, muscular one, 
which she carried over her back, it might ride 
in safety. In this fashion Mrs. Possum herself 
waddled hopefully up and down the long, maze- 
like ditches, vainly looking for an outlet. 

" Grr-r-r-r," rumbled the delighted Peter, 
recognizing his mate, and greeting her in his 
queer possum way by rubbing his black nose 



52 WILD KINDRED OF 

fondly against Mrs. Possum's black, pointed 
snout. Then Peter and his mate with the eleven 
little possum children still clinging to her back 
turned about, and Peter found the right road at 
last, which led them all straight back to the 
swamp. 

Back in the jungles they found themselves 
after a long, weary journey. They were very 
happy to be once more among their jolly neigh- 
bors, the racoons, sniffing again the sweet 
scented woods, the yellow jasmine flowers, listen- 
ing again to catch the soft, sweet notes of their 
friends, the mocking-birds, who sang their beau- 
tiful trills in the moonlight. Peter and his 
mate were even glad to see their unpleasant 
neighbors again, the buzzards, which actually 
craned their skinny necks curiously, watching 
the return of Mrs. Possum and her large family 
as she climbed back into the cypress tree. 

The persimmons on the old, gnarled persimmon 
tree are growing plumper and riper ; it needs but 
a light touch of Jack Frost to make them tasty. 
Then Peter Possum and his mate with the eleven 
possum babies, who by that time will be able to 
travel alone, are planning to have a grand feast, 
far away from the dreaded plantation ditches, 
right in the safe shelter of their dear old swamp. 



IV 

THE MINNOW TWINS 

ONCE upon a time the minnow family had 
been a very large one, for there were fifteen 
of the children by actual count ; but one day a 
cruel net was dropped lightly into the brook, 
and twelve of them were scooped up and taken 
away. All that remained were Father and 
Mother Minnow, Baby Minnow, and the Twins. 

It was such a delightful brook where the 
minnow family lived — one of the kind which 
runs along quietly for a short way, then suddenly 
bursts into little laughing ripples, bubbling, 
foaming, and hurrying along madly, as though 
it were trying to race away from itself. The 
brown bed of the brook was all paved with 
wonderful pebbles, and when the sun shone 
down upon them they sparkled just like fairy 
jewels. Oh, quite wonderful are the hidden 
treasures of the brook ! It is filled with queer, 
interesting brook people. 

The black and yellow turtle family lived 

55 



56 WILD KINDRED OF 

beneath a tussock of coarse grass just at the bend 
of the brook, where the limb of an old tree had 
fallen, and lay half submerged in the water. Quite 
convenient it was, too, for the turtles ; one would 
usually find some of them sunning upon the log ; 
and when they all came out, they made a long 
line quite across the log, and frequently jostled 
each other " plump " off into deep water. 

Below, in a dark, still place, all day long the 
li lucky bug" family darted stupidly and aim- 
lessly to and fro upon the mirror-like surface ; 
and just above, under the roots of an old willow 
tree, whose snaky roots projected far into the 
water, lived Mr. and Mrs. Muskrat, and their 
three young ones. Beneath a flat rock, which 
shelved out into the water further down-stream, 
where it was deep, still, and mysteriously 
shadowy, two large fierce pickerel had their 
haunts ; regular robbers and bandits they were, 
who made their living by preying upon every- 
thing which came within their reach. There 
were endless other families, all more or less 
interesting, which lived upon the banks, or 
within the brown waters of the brook. 

But this time I am going to tell you about 
the minnows. In spite of the cruel net, which 
of course broke up the family, the minnows 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 57 

were about the jolliest family living in the 
brook. Father and Mother Minnow were very 
old and wise. They had wonderfully large, 
green bulging eyes, which looked not unlike 
green glass marbles, and could detect the ap- 
proach of an enemy yards away. Then they 
would whisk out of sight in an instant, under 
the nearest stone, remaining right there until 
the danger passed. 

Next in importance came the Twins, and they 
were so precisely alike that only their mother 
could really tell them apart. She knew quite 
well that one of them wore an extra speckle of 
brown upon his right side. The Twins were 
forever getting into scrapes, and were full of 
mischievous pranks, which caused their parents 
no end of anxiety. Because they were so full 
of curiosity about everything, these Twins had 
to investigate any strange thing which entered 
the brook ; this, in spite of oft-repeated warn- 
ings from their parents. I must not forget to 
mention the baby, a little bit of a slim, brown 
minnow, and so very timid that he seldom left 
his mother's side. 

One day the minnows were all swimming to- 
gether happily down-stream, pausing occasion- 
ally to exchange pleasant greetings with their 



5S WILD KINDRED OF 

neighbors. Just as they were passing the coarse 
grass tussock, Mrs. Spotted-Turtle stuck her head 
out between the grasses to tell them of an acci- 
dent which had befallen one of her family, the 
youngest ; one of his feet had been bitten off 
by the cruel old pickerel who lived down- 
stream. 

So very much interested were Mr. and Mrs. 
Minnow in listening to this sad story that they 
forgot to keep a watchful eye upon the Twins 
who, as soon as they discovered that they were 
not being watched, darted fleetly off and were 
soon out of sight around a bend of the brook. 
They longed for strange, new adventures, 
thrilling things, and were quite mad with joy 
to be out of sight of the kind, watchful eyes of 
their parents, whom they considered unduly 
fussy and strict. Baby Minnow attempted to 
follow the Twins, but soon gave up and just 
waited under the edge of a pebble until *his par- 
ents should join him. 

Off and away darted the Twins ; so swiftly 
did they travel that their slim sides flashed 
through the water like arrows of gold and 
silver. Wild with delight and freedom they 
often gave little sudden leaps and skips quite 
out of the water. They mischievously and wil- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 59 

fully swam in among the " lucky bug " family, 
scattering them far and wide, until the foolish 
things completely lost their heads, darting con- 
fusedly in all directions. The Twins even for- 
got to watch the spot where a pair of cruel jaws 
armed with sharp teeth usually lay in wait for 
them, snapping dangerously as they passed by 
the pickerel's den. But he did not catch them, 
because they were swimming too rapidly for the 
sly old fellow who had been napping and was 
sluggish in his movements. 

A whole drove of pale yellow butterflies 
joined the Twins just above the pickerel hole, 
and kept them company a long distance down- 
stream, dancing merrily along over the water 
until a robin flew in among them and scattered 
them in all directions. Oh, they were never 
lonely upon their way ; there was plenty of com- 
pany. Musically hummed the blue, lace wings 
of a team of giant dragon-flies which escorted 
them for some distance. As the dragon-flies 
spent too much time darting for gnats, the 
Twins left them far behind. Soon they were a 
long way down-stream. The brook was full of 
surprises for them, as it gradually widened, and 
the sweet-flags and cat-tails grew tall and dense 
to the very edge of the water. They traveled 



60 WILD KINDRED OF 

less swiftly and swam in and out of the shallows, 
investigating the jeweled pebbles, aimlessly nib- 
bling in a bed of watercress. Finally they 
paused to rest and take a leisurely view of their 
new surroundings. 

Just in the edge of the water directly in front 
of them near the watercress patch suddenly 
they espied a strange, glittering object. Never 
in their lives had the Twins seen anything like 
this thing before them. Larger than any pebble 
it was and far more beautiful. They knew 
about scoup-nets, and for a time viewed the 
strange thing before them with misgivings. 
However, it failed to move, so they sidled cau- 
tiously nearer and nearer. Perhaps it was some- 
thing good to eat, and they were decidedly 
hungry. It felt smooth and cool to the touch 
as they brushed it with their fins. Wonderful ! 
There was an opening at one end, but it was not 
a mouth, because there were no teeth ; therefore 
it would not bite. 

Finally, one Twin poked his head boldly into 
the opening and entered. Strangely enough his 
twin could plainly see him upon the other side 
of the object. He signaled with one fin for his 
brother to join him, that all was safe, nothing 
to fear, and then both the Minnow Twins went 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 61 

right inside the glass jar, for that was what it 
was. In an instant the boy who owned the glass 
jar had pulled the string which was tied about 
its neck, only the foolish minnows had not seen 
it, and the next moment they were captives. 

Frantically they dashed about the glass prison, 
bumping their noses cruelly, until at last, quite 
exhausted by their efforts to get free, they finally 
lay panting at the bottom of the jar. Occa- 
sionally they would rise to the top for air, but 
oh, how miserably unhappy they were. They 
could picture to themselves even now the agony 
of mind their parents and little brother endured 
as they searched frantically behind every pebble 
to find their wayward children. 

They longed, oh, so sadly, for their beloved 
brook with its shady haunts, to lie basking in 
the clear water which the sun warmed pleasantly, 
while their neighbors sang sweetly above them 
— the bluebird, the thrush, and hundreds of 
other birds which charmed and entertained 
them all day long when they came to bathe in 
the brook. 

The water in the fruit-jar was rapidly growing 
stale and lifeless. The Twins realized that they 
could not live there very long. What would be 
their sad fate? Cautiously they looked from 



62 WILD KINDRED OF 

their glass prison ; the boy was no longer in 
sight. Soon all became dark about them and 
they knew it was night. Doubtless their parents 
and little brother were dreaming peacefully 
down deep in the cool, dark waters of the brook 
in a favorite nook beneath some broad lily leaf. 

Next morning the Twins were barely alive ; 
they lay gasping weakly. Suddenly a great 
striped paw armed with hooked claws was thrust 
down into the jar which it overturned, Minnow 
Twins and all, and the Twins thought their last 
moment had come. Then the boy appeared and 
they heard him say : 

" Hi, there, Pussy, you rogue. Clear out. 
You're trying to steal my minnows that I worked 
so hard to catch for bait. Scat ! scat ! " 

The boy put the minnows back into the jar 
and poured fresh water upon them, which served 
to revive them wonderfully. Another boy 
finally appeared carrying a tin pail in which he 
had many other unfortunate minnows. 

" I know a dandy place to fish," he exclaimed ; 
" there's an awful big pickerel lives right under 
a great, flat stone, down near the swimming 
hole. Come on ; let's go and try for him." 

It was a very hot day, and by the time the 
boys reached the brook they had decided to 



FDR, FEATHER AND FIN 63 

take a little swim in a certain deep hole, down 
by the willows, so they set the pail and jar care- 
fully on a stone beside the brook. They were 
in such a rush to get undressed and plunge into 
the water that they had a race to see which 
should get in first. 

Thus it happened that one boy in pulling off 
his shoe aimed it carelessly at the fruit-jar. 
Over it toppled with a jingling crash, and the 
next instant the Minnow Twins were back in the 
brook and had darted out of sight under a stone. 
Here they lay just a few seconds, because they 
felt a little weak after their confinement. At 
last they stole cautiously forth, and as good luck 
would have it found themselves right in a little 
bed of mint. They nibbled greedily of the 
healing mint roots, and soon the wonderful tonic 
made them quite strong again. Whisking off 
and looking warily to right and left, they started 
in the direction of their old haunts. 

Soon dear, familiar landmarks began to 
appear. They hailed with delight the form of 
old Mrs. Muskrat, gray and fat, sitting upon 
the bank scolding her children crossly through 
her whiskers. Their little friend, the water 
wag-tail bird, came tiptoeing in and out of the 
brook, searching every pebble for bugs, just as 



64 WILD KINDRED OF 

she always did day after day. She gave a droll 
little flirt, a sort of welcome, with her funny 
little tail as the Minnow Twins slid quickly by. 
The gray squirrels were chasing each other up 
and down the tree trunks merrily, and surely — 
yes, far up-stream they caught sight of the old, 
familiar log, which lay just below the grass 
tussock, and right there Mrs. Spotted-Turtle and 
her family lay sunning themselves, ranged in a 
long line down the log. All the little turtles 
craned their scaly, spotted necks over the log as 
the minnows passed under, and one of the turtles 
which recognized the Twins flopped off the log 
in his excitement into deep water. 

Quickly the Twins passed on and soon they 
arrived at the familiar bend where the white 
birch hung, dipping its silvery leaves into the 
brook. Two chubby, glistening minnows closely 
followed by a little bit of a slim baby minnow 
darted out to meet the homesick Twins. They 
were made welcome with rejoicing and much 
nose-rubbing right back into the bosom of the 
minnow family once more. 

That night all the minnows rested quietly far 
down in the bottom of the brook just beneath 
the protection of a large flat stone. The whip- 
poorwills came as they always did every evening 



FUK, FEATHER AND FIN 65 

to sing their lullaby songs on the top of the old 
rail fence near, and everything was peaceful and 
beautiful once more. If you tread very care- 
fully and lightly through the long grasses bor- 
dering the brook and peer deep down into a cer- 
tain nook perhaps you may be able to discover 
the entire minnow family some day. You may 
be sure of the very spot if you look for the old 
log, the grass tussock, and you may see some of 
the yellow-spotted turtle family sunning them- 
selves, if you have good luck. 



HOW POKUI 





V 

HOW POECUPINE RIDGE WAS SETTLED 

THE remains of a large camp-fire smouldered, 
right in the heart of a forest of giant 
spruces far up in the North country. It had 
smouldered there sullenly all through a long, 
summer day, being left by the campers to die of 
its own accord. By this time they were far away, 
striking a new trail through the woods. 

Night was coming on now. Down in the still, 
dark places, stealthy sounds, rustlings, and 
padded footsteps might be heard along wild 
trails, for with the coming of darkness the 
prowlers, who forage best at night, were begin- 
ning to stir abroad. Certain dark, shambling 
figures — one, two, three — came shuffling across 
a streak of moonlit forest. It was Mow t een, the 
little black mother bear and her two cubs. 
They had come down from their mountain den 
to hunt in the deep forest lowlands and swamps. 
Redbrush, the old fox, hit the trail in hot haste ; 
he had scented wonderful game, perhaps a covey 

69 



70 WILD KINDRED OF 

of plump, sleeping partridges. Impatiently he 
made a sudden, wide detour, even crossing a 
brook and wetting his feet, which he disliked, 
just to avoid meeting a cross old lynx whom he 
despised. Two cottontails, also scenting both 
fox and lynx, leaped high over the tops of the 
rank brakes and bounded off in another direc- 
tion with long leaps, halting to lie flat, trem- 
bling and panting, staying there concealed 
until the dreaded ones had gone on. It hap- 
pened that what the cottontails had imagined to 
be a lynx or Redbrush, the fox, was only Unk- 
Wunk, the porcupine, grubbing unconcernedly 
over the trail, grunting to himself monoto- 
nously his " unk-wunk, unk-wunk," rattling his 
quills softly as he crept leisurely in and out 
among the tall ferns, fearing neither man nor 
beast. 

Occasionally he would halt to root, pig fash- 
ion, beneath some rotten log for grubs or wake- 
robin roots, for which he had a great desire. 
Then again he would stop, and standing upon 
his hind legs he would reach up and strip off 
the bark from some young, tender sapling with 
his sharp teeth. Not very far behind Unk- 
Wunk followed another porcupine, his mate. 
She was somewhat smaller in size and less ag- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 71 

gressive and also, if possible, just a trifle more 
stupid-looking and droll than he. In fact, she 
would actually pass right by some really choice 
morsel which she wished keenly, just because it 
happened to be a little outside the range of her 
small, dull piggy eyes. So, often Unk-Wunk 
would stop to nose out food for her, for she usu- 
ally depended upon him to locate the meals for 
both of them, and he seldom failed her. 

To-night Unk-Wunk was very keen upon a 
new trail, but you never would have suspected it 
from his manner, because he never hurried. 
Still, if you knew him very well indeed, you 
might detect that his gait was rather more con- 
fident than usual, that in spite of his devious 
turnings aside, he always returned again to the 
same trail. All day the two porcupines had 
slept well in the round, deeply hollowed-out 
hole of a spruce tree, and between naps Unk- 
Wunk had watched with growing interest a 
thin, blue spiral of smoke as it filtered and wav- 
ered through the tops of the tall spruces far 
above. Upon several occasions the porcupine 
had seen similar trails of mysterious blue smoke, 
and whenever, out of sheer curiosity, he had fol- 
lowed the smoke to its lair, always had he been 
repaid for his long journey, because smoke usu- 



72 WILD KINDRED OF 

ally meant a camp, and campers recklessly threw 
away much food, more especially bones, bacon 
rinds, and even nubbins of mouldy pork or ham. 

So Unk-Wunk, the wise one, lifted his blunt 
muzzle from time to time and sniffed deeply of 
the faint, delicious odors which sudden winds 
blew in whiffs from the far-off camp. As soon 
as it commenced to grow dusky down below, 
Unk-Wunk grunted to his mate to follow, and 
together they started off upon their raids. 

Naturally selfish of nature and secretive is 
the porcupine, and when an inquisitive intruder 
ventured to cross Unk-Wunk's trail, he would 
hold his own ground, never stirring from his 
tracks, but, standing sullenly in the path, force 
everything to turn out for him. Or, should 
they presume to show courage enough to face 
him, he would simply drop right down in his 
tracks, roll himself into the well-known prickly 
ball, and let them come on. This they usually 
decided not to do in the end, for most wander- 
ers along the trails were not deceived ; well 
they knew that out of his small, dull-appearing 
eyes Unk-Wunk was craftily watching their 
every movement, waiting for them to come near 
enough to him to slap them with his barb-laden 
tail. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 73 

Thus Unk-Wunk and his mate grubbed along, 
not too hurriedly, which would have been a 
mistake, for some other watcher might have its 
curiosity aroused and follow them, and they 
would perhaps be compelled to share their find 
with another. Finally following devious trails, 
the porcupines reached the deserted camp. 
Unk-Wunk was glad there was no one there, 
because once, when he had gnawed very loudly, 
a sleeping man had been awakened and fired a 
gun at him. 

Wandering in and out among the blackened 
embers groped Unk-Wunk grunting impatiently 
while nosing over a pile of empty tin cans. 
But soon, to his joy, he discovered a bone which 
he rasped and rasped, pushing away his mate 
when she presumed to touch it. Next, oh, j'03% 
he found a long bacon rind. He actually fought 
with his mate for this, forcing her to go back to 
a greasy board which he had been gnawing. 

Things began to look more promising and 
Unk-Wunk and his mate were so busy with 
their foraging, they utterly failed to hear the 
soft, velvet, padded footsteps of another, who 
had been following their trail from the first. 
They failed also to catch the gleam of a pair of 
blazing, yellow eyes which peered out at them 



74 WILD KINDEED OF 

maliciously from behind the blackened back- 
ground of a stump, watching, watching their 
every movement. It was a large tawny wildcat. 
For some time the cat watched the porcupines, 
lashing its tail softly against the pliant ferns ; 
each instant the tail seemed to switch a trifle 
more impatiently ; the wildcat was making 
ready for an attack. Finally, unable to endure 
their grunts of joy an instant longer, for the 
cat was gaunt with hunger, it crouched low, 
then shot right into the very center of the camp. 
Spitting, snarling, yelling its horrid wails, which 
echoed through the woods, it charged upon the 
porcupines. Regardless of Unk-Wunk's raised, 
quilly armor it flew straight at him, tussling, 
scuffling, spitting and snarling, eager to take 
away the bone. 

"Slap." The tail of the porcupine, laden 
with its most deadly quills, landed right be- 
tween the blazing, yellow eyes of the wildcat, 
almost blinding it. Then a terrific battle took 
place ; the whirling wildcat, mad with pain, 
tore about in a wide circle, scattering blackened 
firebrands in all directions. It looked, for a 
time, as if a small cyclone had struck the camp. 
All the while the cat kept up its uncanny 
screams which struck sudden terror to many a 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 75 

small wild thing along the trails, sending them 
cowering back into their dens and hidden cov- 
erts. Under the whirling rain of ashes and 
embers, wise Unk-Wunk and his mate managed 
to sneak off into the woods unobserved. And 
at last the wildcat, angry and defeated, slunk 
away, rubbing its snout, trying to rid itself of 
the awful quills, spitting and scolding as it 
went. 

But the really tragic part of all this was what 
followed. Back in the deserted camp had lain 
one sullen, smouldering firebrand. It might 
have died out of its own accord in time had it 
not been disturbed. But the wild scuffle be- 
tween the wildcat and the porcupine had re- 
vived it, tossing it right into a bed of dry leaves 
and sun-baked ferns. 

Out upon the hills the summer drought had 
been hard ; the pastures lay brown and scorched 
by the hot sun, while in the woods the under- 
brush was tinder dry. So the fire took courage, 
kindled, snapped and crackled, then burst into 
bright flames and started on its travels. Up the 
tall stems of giant spruces it ran, leaping across 
from one feathery top into the next. Behind, 
it left blackened trunks and below, beds of 
glowing embers, while all in an instant the for- 



76 WILD KINDRED OF 

est trails became fairly alive with multitudes of 
wild things, frenzied animals, great and small, 
all trying to get away from the raging flames. 
Wildcats, timid cottontails, the black bear and 
her cubs, they all traveled together hurrying, 
hurrying on ahead of the fire. Wild deer left 
their runs, and forgetting their lifelong terror of 
enemies, leaped off and away. Ahead, far in ad- 
vance, tore one great, brave buck deer, trying to 
lead his mate and her fawn to safety. The bear 
shambled close behind, howling as she ran, snap- 
ping back at a biting firebrand which scorched 
her back. Great snakes cut through the fern 
jungles like black whips, rushing on ahead of 
the scorching breath of the destroying flames. 

Back of the larger, stronger ones traveled the 
less fleet of foot, the more timid of the wild 
things. Among these were the porcupines, 
Unk-Wunk and his mate. Most of them were 
headed for Balsam Swamp, for there, instinc- 
tively, they knew they would find water, because 
deep in the swamp lay Black Pond, a never- 
failing water hole, which had its source in many 
a mountain stream. If they only could get to 
the water then they would be safe. 

Never in all his lifetime had Unk-Wunk 
traveled so fast, and they were even then far be- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 77 

hind the others ; surely they would be caught 
by the fire. Already, in spite of their protecting 
quills the porcupines began to feel the scorch- 
ing breath of the flames close behind them. Old 
Unk-Wunk was almost spent and deliberately 
halted right in his tracks. His usually half- 
shut eyes were strained with anxiety ; besides 
they smarted and stung from the smoke. He 
was almost tempted to lie right down and give 
up the awful chase, to defy the cruel thing 
which was even now scorching and blistering 
his tired feet. His mate, always following his 
example, would of course do exactly as he did ; 
in fact, she would have followed him straight 
back into the flames. 

But no, Unk-Wunk was not ready to give up. 
Instead, grunting, scrambling, hastening as fast 
as he was able, the porcupine suddenly and de- 
liberately left the trail ; it looked almost as if he 
were going straight into the track of the fire. 
He managed to reach a certain flat, shelving 
ledge, which was just ahead of the fire. Then 
rolling himself into a round ball, he lay down 
upon the high ledge and rolled right off into 
space, landing some distance down below upon 
another ridge of rock. In between the rocky 
ledges he crept, where the moisture trickled con- 



78 WILD KINDRED OF 

stantly down from above, making it cold and 
wet; right close to the great rocky ridge he lay 
and waited. The next instant down tumbled 
another round, quilly ball from the ledge above. 
It was his mate ; the faithful thing had followed 
Unk-Wunk, just as he knew she would do. 
There in the cool, moist-laden rock they clung 
tight together and went fast asleep, too weary 
and scorched and terror-stricken to move ; and 
the great fire raged around them, but when it 
came to the ridge, it leaped right over the spot 
where they lay, and they were safe. 

Most of the more fortunate fleet-footed wild 
managed to reach Balsam Swamp. There the 
great snowy owl finally settled, and makes her 
nest here each year. The eagles built their nest 
above upon a ledge, and the heron tribe located 
close by. But Moween, the little black bear and 
her cubs, went back to the forest and made her 
den right beneath the ridge where Unk-Wunk 
and his mate found safety, so that the porcu- 
pines and the bears have ever since been near 
neighbors. 

The spot has for many years been known as 
Porcupine Ridge. Almost any time, if you 
stray that way, and care for a stiff climb, you 
can pick up quantities of loose quills near the 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 79 

spot, and sometimes you may even run across a 
quilly ball lying right on top of the ledge, or 
catch one of the numerous porcupine family 
picking its way leisurely among the rocks. So 
now you can fully understand why this particu- 
lar spot has always been called Porcupine Ridge, 
because it was really settled by none other than 
old Unk-Wunk and his mate at the time of the 
great forest fire. 



VI 

METHUSALEH, THE TYKANT OF BLACK POND 

METHUSALEH, the Tyrant, was very old, 
so old that none of the inhabitants of the 
pond could have told you his exact age. Like 
the knights of old he, too, wore armor, which 
served very well to protect him and turn aside 
many a stray bullet or dangerous missile aimed 
in his direction. In fact Methusaleh, the giant 
snapping turtle of Black Pond, appeared to have 
led a sort of charmed life, escaping all kinds of 
dangers in the most lucky manner, and abso- 
lutely ruling over all wild things which came 
near or made their homes in or about the pond. 
If the old Tyrant wore knightly armor, he in 
no other respect resembled the brave knights of 
ancient days, for by nature he was malicious, 
sly and wicked. And, if the truth were only 
known, a very great glutton. Just as soon as 
the frost left the strata of mud above him where 
he had wintered, old Methusaleh would rouse 
himself for action. Quite torpid at first, he 

83 



84 WILD KINDRED OF 

would crawl to some spot where the sun might 
strike his chilled, mud-caked shell, and gradually 
thaw out. Soon would commence his eager 
search for food, and in early spring he made 
regular hourly trips around the pond, gobbling 
up the very first young things which had come 
out of winter quarters, usually small tender frogs. 
He loved to lie motionless near the surface of 
the water, sending up pearly air bubbles through 
his horny snout, waving a flipper idly, just to 
keep his huge shell afloat, looking precisely like 
a round-topped rock, for the old fellow's back 
was rough and so moss-grown that he resembled 
a stone more than anything living. But all the 
while his cold wicked-looking eyes, when not 
shaded by their filmy lids, were quite watchful 
and always on the alert, and his wrinkled neck 
was ever in readiness to dart out like a flash to 
snap up anything which came his way. 

Snap, snap, would crash his horny, toothless 
jaws, closing over one after another of the unsus- 
pecting minnow shoals as they slid by him. As 
for the catfish, with their terrible lance-like 
spines, rising just back of their gills, and which 
every boy who goes fishing dreads more than any- 
thing — they never bothered the old Tyrant; his 
armor protected him so well he feared nothing. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 85 

His hard, warty fore legs were so tough and 
strong they could ward off anything trouble- 
some ; besides, they were armed with sharp black 
claws. Usually, Methusaleh would come upon 
the catfish from beneath the shoal ; a swift 
snap of his scaly jaws and he had taken a bite 
from a pearl-white stomach, thus escaping the 
horn, and discarding every portion of the fish 
but the choicest morsels. Sometimes, so silently 
did the old Tyrant approach the shoal from 
beneath, that he would succeed in snapping 
several fish even before the leader of the shoal 
knew what was going on behind him. 

Quite as much at home upon the land as in 
water was old Methusaleh. He could remain 
beneath water a long time, while in between the 
rank reeds and grasses alongshore ran his wide 
flattened trails ; regular runways they were. 
You might readily distinguish where the nimble 
muskrats ran, because their trails were round 
and hollow, but when the old Tyrant passed, he 
cut a wide swath. Fully two feet wide was his 
great shell. It was blocked off beautifully in 
diamonds, each diamond being ringed about with 
layers or rings in the shell, which, if you were 
expert enough to read, might have given you a 
clue to his great age. 



86 WILD KINDRED OF 

His horny legs possessed such wonderful 
strength that he could readily pin down and 
hold a large muskrat with one fore leg. 
Usually, when the muskrat colony came across 
old Methusaleh's fresh trail, they would either 
leap nimbly over it at a high jump, or back out, 
making a wide detour to reach their huts, be- 
cause the water rats always got the worst of it in 
an encounter with the old Tyrant. Many of 
them were even forced to swim in lop-sided 
fashion because of a lost fore paw or hind leg, 
which had been snapped off by the wicked old 
turtle. 

Nesting time was a pleasant season for Methu- 
saleh. Then he would spend more than half 
his days foraging among the rank, reedy places, 
and usually he was smart enough to find the old 
blue heron's nesting place, no matter how skil- 
fully she might conceal it. Once or twice the 
old birds had come back and actually found the 
old Tyrant occupying their nest, surrounded by 
broken eggshells. Of course they fell upon him 
and thrashed him badly with their great blue 
wings, but this made no impression upon the 
diamond armor of the old fellow, although he 
looked out well to protect his eyes from the 
heron's lance-like bill — the only thing which he 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 87 

had to fear from them. He just doted upon 
bird's eggs, but more than eggs did he fancy 
young, tender fledglings. 

Who is it that tells us the tortoise is such a 
slow poke ? Just let one of the larger wild 
creatures of the forest, something which Methu- 
saleh really had cause to fear, get after him, and 
then you should watch him sprint for the safety 
of the pond. Putting forth his clumsy, but 
fearfully strong flippers, with his snaky neck 
stretching forth to its limit from its wrinkles, his 
spiky tail held stiff, old Methusaleh would start 
off on a wild, shambling run, hissing back 
angrily through his black nose holes as he 
traveled. His black claws barely touched the 
earth as he slid over the ground, and it would 
have taken a very swift runner to keep up with 
him. Once he reached the water, without 
pausing to take observations, he would launch 
himself off into its depths, sinking straight 
down among the snaky water-weed roots to the 
bottom of the pond. The pursuer arriving too 
late at the edge of the water usually went away 
quite baffled. 

Old Ring Neck, the goose, who came each 
year to Black Pond to rear her wild brood, one 
season hatched out nine fine goslings, and when 



88 WILD KINDRED OF 

the time came she piloted them to the water for 
their first swimming lesson. All the way the 
little ones kept up a timorous " peep, peep, 
peep," which of course Methusaleh heard plainly 
enough, for he happened to be right on the edge 
of the bank sunning himself. Deftly and si- 
lently he slid into the water, and from behind a 
knot of tangled lily roots he watched and laid 
his plans. 

One after another the trusting goslings slipped 
into the water, their shadows from below look- 
ing like floating lily pads, only behind each 
shadow trailed two pink, webbed feet. Bubbles 
began to rise from the knot of lily roots below 
them, but the old goose did not see them ; she 
was too taken up with the young ones. The old 
Tyrant w,as making ready to rise. 

As soon as the floating shadows of the goslings 
came just over his hiding place, silently he began 
to paddle with just one flipper, while his wicked 
eyes were fixed upon a certain pink foot. Even 
before the innocent gosling could utter one 
warning peep, the old Tyrant had yanked it 
quickly under water, and borne it off among the 
matted water-weeds. That day the old goose 
lost two of her brood in the most n^sterious 
manner. How they had gone, or where, she 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 89 

never found out, and in time Methusaleh man- 
aged to steal most of her brood just as he had 
the young herons. Oh, there was no question 
about it, the sly old turtle was about the worst 
Tyrant the pond had ever known. 

Now it happened that because the catfish in 
Black Pond were large and biting unusually 
well that summer, the two Newton boys, who 
lived in a lumber camp the other side of the 
mountain, used often to come there to fish. 
Frequently they had caught sight of old Methu- 
saleh as he lay sunning himself upon the bank, 
and never in all their lives had they seen such a 
giant turtle, and they had often spoken about 
him in the camp. 

" You boys better look out for that old 
turtle," advised one of the lumbermen as the 
boys were about starting for the pond ; " they're 
ugly customers, them snapping turtles, when 
you tackle 'em." 

" Guess you boys better not go in swimmin'," 
spoke grandfather from his corner. " I remember 
a swim I took in Black Pond once when I was a 
boy an' say — I left part of one of my toes behind 
there somewheres ; always thought some old 
snapper got it. We caught a buster there once ; 
managed to hold him, three of us, long enough 



00 WILD KINDRED OF 

to cut a date on his shell, but he was so 'tarnal 
sassy and strong he got away from us. This 
might be one of his relatives/' chuckled the old 
man. 

The boys were allowed to drive the colt and 
make a day of it. They fished until afternoon, 
but at last the fish failed to bite and the gnats 
bothered them so, they quit fishing and 
tramped alongshore to look at some snares they 
had set. 

" Say, Dick ; hi, come here and look at the 
track I've struck," called Joe ; " believe it's our 
old friend, the snapping turtle. Yep, here he is, 
fast asleep. Ain't he just a corker ? " The two 
boys had come upon the old fellow as he lay 
sunning himself. 

" Let's wake him up and have some fun with 
him," suggested Joe. " I'll get a stout stick ; 
you watch him and see that he don't get away." 

Methusaleh had not been asleep, however, so he 
just raised one cold eye and stared after the boys 
insolently, as much as to say, " Who's afraid ? " 

Soon the boys began to prod the old fellow 
rather too much for his comfort, for there are 
certain vulnerable places upon a turtle, and one 
of these is his wrinkled neck. The stick bothered 
him so he began twisting his snaky head about 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 91 

angrily and snapping at the boys, hissing sav- 
agely, finally clinging obstinately to the stick, 
so that the boys managed to raise him and turn 
him upon his back where he waved his flippers 
helplessly, trying in vain to right himself and 
crawl away. 

" Oh, oh, Joe, look ! see ! why, here's a date. 
It says — why, it says ' 1825 ' ; it surely does, 
see ! " 

" Great Scott, Dick, it surely does," cried Joe 
excitedly, as he read the worn date cut in the 
turtle's shell. " Why, it's grandfather's old 
snapper, the one he thinks bit off his toe when 
he was a boy. This old fellow must be terribly 
old; he was big when grandfather first saw him 
and grandfather's awful old. Oh, if we could 
only get him back to camp. Tell you what, be- 
fore anything happens, let us carve a date 
right under this one. Give me your knife, 
Dick." So, together, the boys carved 1913 right 
under the old date. By prodding the old turtle 
they made him seize the stick again firmly and 
together they managed to lift him into their 
wagon, leaving him helplessly waving his flip- 
pers, flat upon his back. 

Soon they started for home, but not a minute 
too soon, for a thunder head was beginning to 



92 WILD KINDRED OF 

travel over the mountain. Before they were 
half-way home the storm began, and the colt, 
frightened by the rattle of the thunder in the 
mountain passes, broke and ran. The old wagon 
swayed and bounced from side to side and the 
boys had all they could do to manage the colt. 
They were glad enough to reach camp, finally, 
and not until they drove to the shed did they 
remember the snapping turtle, but to their dis- 
may when they looked for him, he was gone. 

" It's a shame ! " exclaimed Dick. " I wanted 
grandfather to see him. Hold the lantern, Joe ; 
perhaps he's slid way under the seat." But 
they searched in vain, for during their wild ride 
the old Tyrant had righted himself and slid 
off the tail end of their wagon. 

Away back on the mountain road lay Me- 
thusaleh, somewhat stunned by his fall. All 
night he lay there with a piece nicked from his 
shell. At sunup he was off over the rough road 
headed for the pond. He crawled along aim- 
lessly at first. Finally reaching a rise in the 
ground, all at once he lifted his snaky neck, 
scenting moisture — the pond. Raising himself 
high upon his great flippers, his horny head 
stretched out like a racer, he ran scrambling 
over stones and through matted jungles of weeds. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 93 

At last he saw the gleam of the pond lying 
steel-like and sullen ahead. The hot sun heated 
his thick shell to furnace heat, scorching his 
flesh beneath ; he longed to plunge into the 
cooling water. Finally, in desperate haste hav- 
ing reached a high place in the bank, he rolled 
the remainder of the distance and fell with a 
loud splash into the pond, straight down into 
the oozing mud to the bottom, scattering catfish 
and small fry in all directions. 

And there he is still, old Methusaleh, the Ty- 
rant of Black Pond, and no one actually knows 
his age, for 'tis said some turtles have lived a 
thousand years. But if you ever run across the 
old Tyrant you may recognize him readily if 
you have courage and strength enough to turn 
him over upon his back, for there you will find 
upon his shell the two dates — 1825 and 1913. 




mm diver 



VII 
MAHUG, THE CHAMPION DIYER 

A STRANGE, uncanny scream rang out over 
the sullen waters of Black Lake one night 
in June, and, although there was no human be- 
ing near the desolate spot to hear the awful cry, 
it was quite scary enough to startle certain of 
the wild inhabitants all alongshore. There 
were others among them, however, who were 
unafraid ; they had heard the same cry before 
and recognized it. They knew that Mahug, the 
Great King Loon, and his wild mate had ar- 
rived at the lake, where each year they came 
from warmer climes, to build their hidden nest 
in some secluded spot among the rushes. 

This lonely location had always suited the 
King Loon so well that no matter how far off 
he had wintered, he invariably made for Black 
Lake during nesting time. Mahug, like all his 
tribe, was a mighty diver and, for water-fowl, he 
had very fashionable habits, spending a portion 
of each year near the salt sea, usually camping 
upon some desolate island, fishing, swimming, 

97 



98 WILD KINDRED OF 

and diving with thousands of other water-fowl, 
yet never mingling at all familiarly with them, 
or encouraging acquaintances in a sociable way, 
because the loon is a very solitary bird. So, 
when nesting time came, Mahug always went 
off as far away from the crowd as he possibly 
could go. Quite frequently he and his mate 
would fly thousands of miles in order to be ex- 
clusive and alone. The old loon was a large, 
imposing bird, his wing and back feathers of a 
glossy, metallic black, while his beautiful breast 
was dazzling, pearly white, the feathers very 
soft and thick. When Mahug stood erect, at 
first sight, he appeared to be wearing a dark 
coat thrown back from a pearl-white waistcoat. 
His head was beautifully marked, the top of 
fine, iridescent feathers, the neck ringed about 
with green and bronze. On the wing, you 
never would have suspected how very awkward 
Mahug could be upon his feet. On land he just 
waddled about in the most ungainly fashion, 
choosing to fly, usually, rather than walk, be- 
cause his clumsy webbed feet were not intended 
for tramping. They were set so far back upon his 
body that they were of small use to him except- 
ing when he used them for paddles in the water. 
Mahug was in his element in water or upon 






FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 99 

the wing. And my, how the old King could 
dive ! In fact, the loon family are all noted 
divers, for they cannot only dive deeper than 
other birds, bat they can also stay under water 
a long time. So quickly could old Mahug dive, 
that several times in his life when a hunter had 
fired at him, even before the bullet touched 
water, the old King Loon was already deep 
down in the depths of the lake among the 
snake-like lily roots, safe. 

This June when Mahug and his mate reached 
the shores of Black Lake, he sent his great cry 
of triumph abroad, for he was glad to be there. 
Then he and his mate nested low among the 
sedges and rested for the night, but the very 
next morning, even before the fog lifted from 
the lake, both set about their nest building. 
Right upon the ground they built it and not 
very carefully, I am afraid, their main idea be- 
ing to conceal it cleverly behind a thick curtain 
of reeds and matted water-weeds, but not so 
very far from the water. In due time three 
baby loons pipped their dark green shells, and 
queer-looking little specimens of birds they 
were — bare, homely and always hungry. 

Although it appeared desolate and lonely 
enough, still, if one but knew, back in the thick 



100 WILD KINDRED OF 

undergrowth about the lake, hidden by thick 
jungles of blackberry vines and dark spruces, 
there were many secret coverts and dens where 
the wild of the forest made their homes. The 
lake itself was almost completely surrounded by 
treacherous, oozy bogs and morasses, so that it 
was seldom visited by man. For this very 
reason the wild things felt safe, and the old 
King Loon had especially selected the spot, for 
the loon is the wildest of all wild water-fowl. 

Few of the other birds cared to meet the loon 
in battle, because of the mighty strength of his 
great wings which could soon beat out the life 
of anything upon which they descended, while 
his heavy coat of feathers protected their wearer 
well. So when the loon sent its uncanny scream 
across the lake, more than one timid, wild thing 
cowered close to the ground and shook with 
sudden fear. 

As soon as the young loons could tumble over 
the edge of their comfortless nest among the 
sedges, they made for the near-by water, and 
speedily began to imitate their elders, diving far 
down among the matted water-weeds and chas- 
ing minnows and little chunky perch which 
the}' would gobble at one mouthful. At first 
Mahug and his mate watched the young loons, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 101 

taking pains to give them diving lessons, and 
then encouraging them to take short flights, as 
soon as their wing feathers sprouted. Gradually 
the old birds left them more to themselves. So 
it happened one day that one of the young loons 
waddled forth from the nest and began to follow 
in the wake of a heron who was leisurely fishing 
alongshore. The loon mounted upon a large 
round stone, as he supposed ; he did not notice 
that the stone moved a trifle. It did, and that 
which the young loon took for a mud-caked 
stone, was nothing less than a very old, giant 
snapping turtle, which lay there sunning him- 
self. So old was this particular turtle that his 
flippers were covered with large scales and his 
shell looked to be fairly moss-covered. Over 
the top of the shell waddled the young loon, 
while the old turtle, without moving its ugly, 
snake-like head, watched with its hateful beady 
eyes every movement of the loon. It climbed 
over the top of the shell and when it came 
within reach of the turtle's long neck, like a 
flash it was snapped up by the old fellow. The 
heron gave a loud " kreay, kreay " of alarm, but 
no one heard him, so when the old loons got 
back to the nest one of the baby loons was miss- 
ing. They flew out over the water, searching, 



102 WILD KINDRED OF 

screaming loudly, calling in and out among the 
sedges and tussocks, but of course the young 
loon never answered their wild calls. 

Mahug strongly suspected some one of the 
muskrat family, so he began watching a colony 
of them which had pitched their huts along- 
shore. Even at night, especially if it was moon- 
light, the old King Loon would skim low over 
the water, uttering scream after scream as he 
followed the trails of the muskrats swimming 
about the lake. If Mahug had caught one of 
them he would have made short work of it, so 
furious was he. But somehow the muskrats al- 
ways escaped, for they kept sentinels upon duty, 
who always slapped their tails upon the water, 
at which signal the muskrats always vanished. 

Almost before Mahug had forgotten about the 
disappearance of the first small loon, another 
one disappeared. This time Mahug was quite 
certain that the old bald-headed eagle, which 
lived far above upon a cliff the other side of the 
lake, had gone off with it. Now there were sev- 
eral } r oung eaglets up there on the cliff and the 
old birds foraged for them all day long. They 
took anything they could find upon the shore, 
especially if it were young, tender and unpro- 
tected. Mahug and the old eagle crossed each 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 103 

other in the air and they had one terrible battle 
together, but the eagle proved to be more than a 
match for the loon. The King of the Air had sharp 
talons and a razor-like beak which tore through 
the heavy feathers of the loon and bit into his flesh 
sharply, so at length he had to settle down among 
the sedges and own himself beaten for once. 

The summer moon, round and yellow, came 
peeping over the tops of the tallest spruces upon 
the summit of Mount Cushman and lighted a 
broad path right across Black Lake. Out in the 
center of the lake the horn-pouts and pickerel 
were leaping, and over in the shadows on the far 
shore Mahug, the old loon, screamed and sud- 
denly dove for a fish in the moonlight. All 
manner of wild things of fur and feathers were 
stirring. The muskrats were playing, squeaking 
merrily and chasing each other in and out of 
their huts and leaving long silvery trails behind 
them as they swam about. Back in the thickets 
of rushes dozed one lonely little loon, last of the 
brood of Mahug. Too young to venture forth 
upon a moonlight fishing trip, it cuddled down 
flat, its webbed feet beneath its scantily feath- 
ered body, uttering a plaintive little sound 
whenever it heard the old loons screaming out 
on the lake. 



104 



WILD KINDRED OF 



Because of these little lonely cries, the dark 
far-clad stranger who had been feeling its way 
alongshore, in and out among the tall reeds, 
paused, erecting its small ears, trying to locate 
the whereabouts of the sound. Long and lithe 
of body was the stranger, a full-grown mink. Its 
dark fur coat mingled well with the shadows, 
but when a streak of moonlight touched its 
breast, its pure white breast-plate of fur shone, 
dazzlingly white. The mink's legs were short, 
so it crouched low along the ground as it crept 
nearer and nearer the lonely nest among the 
reeds. 

The next instant it poked its hateful snout 
through an opening and saw the loon. Already 
its fetid breath reached the little loon, which 
gave a startled, whimpering call out into the 
night. The call had been heard just in time. 
Like a great black shadow something flew across 
the strip of moonlight, and with a wild whirl of 
giant wings the old King Loon charged for the 
nest. Instantly his fierce eyes sighted the sneak- 
ing mink, then down like a perfect avalanche 
he came, snatching the surprised mink in his 
beak and soaring out over the water. Somehow 
the mink managed to free its neck and its 
sharp teeth met in the pearly breast feathers of 



FUR, FEATHER AXD FIX 105 

the old loon. For a second it seemed as though 
Mahug would loosen his hold upon the mink, 
but instead, uttering a terrific scream of rage and 
vengeance, which fairly awoke the echoes along- 
shore, the great bird plunged straight into the 
water and dove and dove ; far down into the 
muddy depths he sank, never loosing his terrible 
hold upon the mink. Now the mink is quite as 
much at home in the water as a muskrat. But 
never had the old King Loon stayed under 
water so long before. In vain his mate screamed 
for him alongshore, but only the whippoorwills 
answered her call. At last, when she had almost 
given him up, from out the center of the lake 
arose old Mahug, amid a perfect shower of whirl- 
ing spray, and he was alone. He had been able 
to stay under water longer than the mink. 

Mahug joined his mate, and then, as it was late 
and the moon was very low, the two great birds 
gave up their fishing and went back to their nest 
in the reeds. There in the darkness, with no 
light but the little flitting fireflies twinkling in 
and out among the sedges, while the whippoor- 
wills sang a lullaby, they guarded their one 
nestling through the night. And when the 
time came to leave Black Lake, three loons flew 
away together. 




TPIlt^ 




VIII 

FIEECE STAR NOSE, THE BURROWER 

STAR NOSE, the mole, loved best of all very 
dark places. In fact he spent most of his 
life underground, so that whenever he did 
venture abroad into strong sunlight, the glare 
would nearly blind his tiny, almost concealed 
eyes. It was on this very account, more than 
any other, that he preferred to come forth from 
his underground home about twilight. Now if 
you chanced to come across Star Nose above 
ground, at first sight you might judge him to 
be a very slow-moving, dull-witted creature. In 
reality he was just about the most fierce, blood- 
thirsty little fellow on earth or under it. For, 
if Star Nose had actually been about the size of a 
lion, instead of a tiny mole, he might readily, 
with one grasp of teeth or claws, so it is said, 
tear a great ox asunder. So it was just as well 
for everybody that he was a mere mole. 

Wonderfully fine and soft, beyond words, was 
his smoke-gray, plush-like coat, and by special 

109 



110 WILD KINDRED OF 

providence the far of this coat did not grow in 
just one direction like that of most furred 
animals. Instead, you might stroke it either 
way, up or down. For this reason Star Nose 
was able to travel backward or forward with 
equal speed. So strong was Star Nose that he 
could upheave a long section of the hardest earth, 
no matter if a steam roller had gone over it. 
Sometimes, when traveling swiftly through one 
of his subway passages, his velvety coat would 
become caked with soil ; then he would give 
himself a quick shake which sent it flying from 
his back, thus cleaning his fur. 

It is never well to judge anything by mere 
appearances, so, although Star Nose had tiny 
bits of eyes and no visible ears, he was by no 
means a dullard. Nature, ever helpful, had 
shown him exactly the way to take care of him- 
self, and, unlike his cousins, the plain little 
shrews, Star Nose wore upon the tip end of his 
small pointed snout a pink star. This star was 
not given him for just an ornament; it helped 
him wonderfully in finding his way about un- 
derground and, besides, he used it in rooting out 
deep holes, precisely as a pig uses its flattened 
snout. Star Nose spent most of his life digging, 
and for this very reason his claws, instead of 



FUH, FEATHER AND FIN 111 

curving inward when shut, as do those of most 
other animals, were arranged in quite a queer 
fashion — they curved back. This was a great 
help to him, for he could use them precisely as 
though they were little spades to toss aside the 
dirt out of his road. So quickly did he work, 
that if you but turned your head away for a 
minute, by the time you looked again Star Nose 
had dug a hole and was out of sight. 

Of all the burrowing tribes which live below 
ground Star Nose was perhaps the prize digger. 
He was not content to dig out a burrow for 
himself a little distance below ground and then 
sit still in its door as did his neighbors, the 
gopher family. No, nothing would suit Star 
Nose but a regular city subway with such 
straight streets that you wondered how, with 
his half blindness, he could ever manage to dig 
them. In addition to this, there were spacious 
chambers, passages, and regular galleries — long 
roads which led to his feeding places. You 
would soon have lost your way in such a maze, 
but Star Nose never did. He lived in a great 
bank, and the entrance to his home he had con- 
cealed beneath a bush where you would never 
have seen it, so deftly was it hidden. There 
was just a little spot raised in the earth which 



112 WILD KINDRED OF 

led straight into a large chamber. Five passage- 
ways descended from this, connected by galleries 
lower down, and from this ran many subways 
and long roads which were worn quite hard and 
smooth by the passage of old Star Nose, the 
hermit mole. It was very well for him that 
these walls were solid, otherwise his whole home 
might have come tumbling in upon him during 
a freshet or a storm. 

Now the real reason why Star Nose happened 
to be occupying such a grand apartment alone 
was this. Last June he had chanced to meet 
and select for his mate a little silver-coated 
mole. But one of his plain, shrew mole cousins 
had upset all his well laid plans. Happening 
to meet Star Nose and his companion just out- 
side their burrow, he actually tried to persuade 
her to go off with him. This was entirely too 
much for Star Nose to stand ; it made him so 
furiously angry and jealous that he fell upon 
the impudent shrew, and right there under the 
home bush they had a dreadful battle. Long 
and hard they fought there ; they scratched and 
tore and bit each other's beautiful fur coats until 
they were in tatters, uttering fierce squeaks of 
rage, rolling over and over in a deadly grip, each 
mole quite determined to win little Silver Coat, 






FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 113 

while she, poor thing, sat stupidly by, wonder- 
ing what it all meant. As she sat there shaking 
gently, old Golden Eyes, the hawk, went sailing- 
overhead, and making one swift lunge down- 
ward bore her away. Neither Star Nose nor his 
antagonist noticed that she was missing ; they 
kept on with their awful fight, biting each other 
savagely, as they had in the beginning, until 
finally the shrew had to give up; he was getting 
the worst of it, and crawled miserably away. 
Then Star Nose, for the first time remembering 
what the fight had been about, searched vainly 
for his little companion. He peered anxiously 
everywhere, nosing the earth- on all sides and 
searching; then, thinking perhaps she had gone 
down into the burrow, down he scurried, peering 
up and down the long roads and galleries, call- 
ing softly to her with little muffled squeaks ; 
this because of the earth which sometimes filled 
his nostrils. In vain he searched. He did not 
find Silver Coat. Discouraged and worn out 
on account of his terrific struggles, he gave up, 
huddled himself in a soft little ball, covered his 
head with his fiat claws, and took a long sleep in 
the main chamber of his home, hoping to forget 
his troubles. 

All that summer Star Nose lived alone, and so 



114 WILD KINDRED OF 

he became a kind of hermit mole. Of course he 
was not so very happy ; in fact his disposition 
had become sadly changed. So upset was he by 
the loss of his little mate that he felt disagree- 
able with everything which happened to cross 
his path. Sometimes, so fiercely jealous and 
full of hate was he, that he would enter the 
subways of the shrew family when they were 
away, and when he came across a nest full of 
baby shrews would bite and kill them viciously, 
in the meanest way. Finally all the shrews for 
miles about dreaded the approach of old Star 
Nose and avoided his trails. Even the sight of 
his star-tipped snout seen breaking through the 
earth, on a moonlight night, would put them in 
a panic and they would scurry away. 

Star Nose cared nothing for them. He now 
laid all his troubles to the shrew tribe and so 
planned in this unjust way to get even with 
them. 

At last the warm, autumnal sunshine no 
longer shone down and warmed the bank with 
its rays. As it grew colder, many of those who 
lived in underground homes, the fur-coated 
burrowing tribes, began to make ready their 
winter quarters. The chipmunks had laid in 
their stores, the woodchucks, now sleek and 



FUK, FEATHER AND FIN 115 

very fat, had gone into their inner chambers 
and closed up their front and back doors snugly 
that they might sleep warm all winter. So there 
were really very few among the wild ones stir- 
ring abroad. Colder and bleaker grew the hill- 
side, but thicker, softer, and more elegant be- 
came the velvety coat of old Star Nose. He 
didn't care how cold it grew ; in fact he worked 
all the harder, even beginning new subways 
deeper down in the ground, which ran far be- 
neath, so the frost could not enter. Star Nose 
did not close up his doors as had the woodchuck 
family, for he loved to creep outside and gnaw 
among the roots and grasses. When the sun 
came out it warmed his thick fur coat very 
pleasantly. He took even longer journeys 
underground, digging frantically in new direc- 
tions, and he never forget the fright he had 
once when in digging he actually broke right 
through into the hut of Musquash, the muskrat, 
where it faced the water. It chanced to be 
vacant, and while he was busy exploring the 
hut, wondering what kind of cement Musquash 
used to harden its walls, he heard the slap of a 
muskrat's tail upon the water. Peering out 
he saw bubbles rising, then a brown pointed 
snout, and two indignant eyes looking right at 



116 WILD KINDRED OF 

him. Star Nose tried to back out down a pas- 
sageway, but he was not quick enough, and 
even before he could turn about Musquash, with 
a squeak of rage, had him right beneath his 
claws. Sly old Star Nose thought his time had 
come then, but strangely enough, he managed to 
wriggle his soft body free and had slipped 
quickly off down a long, narrow passage, too 
small for the muskrat to follow him. Star Nose 
realized he had had a narrow escape that time. 
But, I suspect, if the truth were known, Mus- 
quash did not happen to be very hungry, for he 
had just had a fine meal of lily roots ; then, too, 
Star Nose is not reckoned so great a dainty, for he 
carries such a disagreeable scent of musk about 
him, even stronger than that of Musquash him- 
self, 'tis said no wild thing will devour him un- 
less very, very hungry. 

After this escape, you may be quite certain 
Star Nose did not visit the huts of Musquash 
again. One day Star Nose poked his snout out 
of a runway of earth which he was raising, and 
soft white snow feathers came whirling down. 
He crept forth, and finally the little flakes were 
sprinkled thickly over his heavy fur coat. He 
enjoyed the snow although it cut off his food 
supply above ground. This fact did not worry 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 117 

him, for deep down below the frost line in the 
earth, grew a matted network of all kinds of 
succulent roots, some of them terminating in 
bunches of little, juicy ground nuts. The teeth 
of the mole were sharp and fine as needles, so 
all he had to do was to dig and then feast as he 
worked, which was pleasant, for he was always 
coming upon some unexpected dainty ahead of 
him. 

At last the snow fell ; deep and soft it covered 
over the hill with a white, thick blanket. Yet 
beneath the blanket worked and traveled Star 
Nose. All winter long his trails ran just beneath 
the deep snow and in the spring, when the ground 
became bare once more, one is able to see all these 
blind trails for himself. The first warm sun 
shone out at last. It was the beginning of the 
spring thaws ; then the snow blanket upon the 
hill began to grow each day thinner. Already 
the great snowy owl had begun to think about 
a nest, and certain of the fur tribes had ventured 
to come out, at least upon sunny days, for they 
were terribly hungry after their long winter 
sleep. 

Right out upon the white snow crust finally 
crept Star Nose, the mole. At first the glare 
almost blinded him, he had stayed so long 



118 WILD KINDRED OF 

under ground ; besides, he loved night best of 
all. However, he liked to feel the grateful sun 
warming his back, so there he lay, a soft, blind, 
stupid bunch of fur, out in plain sight upon the 
white snow. A long, slim figure, fur-clad, all 
in white, excepting the tip of its tail which was 
brown, came mincing along, picking its way 
warily over the snow, craning its long neck and 
peering, first to this side then the other, warily. 
Over the little snow hummocks it crept, its 
crafty yellow eyes searching everywhere for 
food. This was just Kagax, the weasel, wearing 
his winter coat of white far, which did not show 
against the snow, and Kagax was glad, for he 
was very, very hungry. He spied the little 
gray heap of fur upon the snow, saw Star Nose 
huddled there, covering his blinded eyes from 
the glare, and instantly he pounced upon him, 
and carried him off. 

So this was the end, finally, of Star Nose, the 
cruel, crafty old hermit mole ; such a fierce 
creature that even his own relatives feared him. 
And now his fine, secret chambers which he 
worked so long building, and all his subway 
passages are vacant, temporarily. But I dare 
say by spring some of the shrew family will 
move into his old home. 



nm : 




E 



Ml 
It THE GEL 



^ 



IX 
THE LOYALTY OF SILVER WING, THE GULL 

FAR out on the bosom of the wide ocean lay 
Lonely Island, a small, rock-bound hum- 
mock of sand against which the breakers roared 
and dashed furiously. So wild and barren was 
the spot that no one visited it, for no human be- 
ing could live there ; nothing throve but rank 
grasses and stunted beech plum shrubs. Over 
upon the south side of the island were steep 
ledges, shelving down into deep water, and this 
spot alone was never lonely or still, because it 
was inhabited by thousands of screaming water- 
fowl. 

Down between the cliffs in the lowliest tene- 
ments dwelt the snipe and petrel families, the 
latter seldom at home except during their 
nesting season. Along the shelf-like places of 
the rocks above dwelt the gannets, the terns and 
all other tribes belonging to the gull family. 
High up in their home crannies the sea birds 
could always catch the pearly shimmer of the 

121 



122 WILD KINDRED OF 

breaking of an approaching school of herring, 
even before they reached the line of tossing foam 
below. Then, swift and sure, they would dart 
out to meet them. It was wonderful to watch 
the herring gulls at their fishing, now skimming 
low over giant, green waves, now sinking into 
the trough of the sea. Then, with a sudden 
swift splash of feathery spray, behold the sharp- 
eyed gull secures the fish and is back again in 
his own nest upon the cliff. Strangely enough, 
although the cliff swarmed with other gull 
families, each cranny bearing its nest looked 
precisely like another, never did a returning 
gull make a mistake or intrude upon another 
familv. 

For many seasons the gulls and their kindred 
had nested upon Lonely Island, but one year 
hunters discovered their retreat, and set up a 
temporary camp upon the barren sands. They 
had come to hunt for terns, killing and slaugh- 
tering them by hundreds, just for the sake of 
their beautiful, delicate feathers for which they 
were to be paid much money. Finally the 
hunters abandoned the island, leaving behind 
them many wounded, besides scores of deserted 
young birds, not out of the pin-feather age, who 
would finally pine and die alone upon the lonely. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 123 

ledges, when the parent birds failed to come 
back to feed them. 

For a season, fear and chaos reigned among the 
gull settlements. Day after day the frightened 
sea fowl circled wildly about their cliffs, their 
weird, lonely calls alone breaking the silence, 
ringing even above the noise of the breakers be- 
low them. So many of the colonies were broken 
up and disturbed that they flew off in detached 
numbers, perhaps seeking some safer retreat in- 
land. 

High up, perched upon one of the topmost 
crags of Lonely Island, sat all alone a solitary 
gull. Below, within sight, upon a shelf-like 
rock, a smaller bird, his mate, sat disconsolately 
upon the very edge of her dismantled nest, un- 
willing to tear herself away from two featherless 
young gulls, her babies, who would never 
stretch out their scrawny necks to her for food 
again. They were limp and dead — the hunters 
had wantonly thrown down loose rocks and 
broken up the nest. 

Although Silver Wing, the old leader of the 
gull tribe, felt badly enough over the loss of the 
little gulls, he was much older and wiser than 
his mourning mate ; he had lived through many 
seasons and similar tragic events in his life. So 



124 WILD KINDRED OF 

even while his mate sat mourning, his sharp 
eyes had been fixed upon a certain wave crest 
out beyond the breaker line. 

With a sudden swift rush of his wide wings 
he launched himself from the cliff; a wild 
plunge and he rose from the great wave bearing 
a glistening herring in his talons. With a 
graceful sweeping detour, he swerved in toward 
the cliff, and finally landed close beside his 
mate, where he dropped the fish beside her with 
a little crooning, plaintive cry, which meant, of 
course, " Take this nice herring which I have 
brought you, and be comforted, little mate." 
With another swirl of his wings off he flew to 
fish for another herring before the school could 
get away. 

In spite of the efforts of Silver Wing, who 
tried for days to rouse his mate and tempt her 
to fly off over the water upon fishing trips, she 
continued to linger around the old nest until he 
became almost discouraged. Finally he deter- 
mined to leave Lonely Island, start off and found 
a new home, as many of his kindred had already 
done after the invasion of the cruel hunters. 
Accordingly, Silver Wing, in some manner 
known to his tribe, induced his companion to 
accompany him upon a long flight. One fine 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 125 

day, in company with others of the colony which 
decided to follow their old leader, they started 
for the far distant coast. 

Occasionally they would halt upon some 
small, lonely island, but, as it happened, none 
of them proved to be exactly suited to the gulls' 
needs. The islands were often flat and sterile, 
mere strips of white sand and beech grass, with no 
rocky ledges suitable for nest building. So on 
and on flew the gulls, with heavy wings. Some- 
times they would sight what appeared to be a 
small island, from which would trail long 
streamers of smoke. When the gulls came up 
close to these islands they would be terrified by 
strange, uncanny hootings and tootings. Be- 
sides, whenever they gained courage to hover 
over these strange, floating islands, they always 
proved to be filled with people, creatures like 
the hunters. One thing they discovered, was 
that by following in the wake of the floating 
islands they always found plenty to eat, strange 
food of all kinds upon which they eagerly fed. 

For a sea bird the worst storms at sea have 
small terror. The petrels, or " Mother Cary's 
Chickens," as the sailors call these birds, love 
best, it is said, to ride upon the very crest of a 
giant wave during a wild storm, and the gulls 



126 WILD KINDRED OF 

are equally at home upon the bosom of the 
ocean. It is only when straying birds are adrift, 
seeking a new country, and are driven ahead of 
a storm toward the coast, that they are occasion- 
ally overcome by the elements. So it happened 
that a great storm arose and struck the colony 
of fleeing gulls, sweeping them inland. On 
their great wide wings they flew ahead of the 
gale, on and ever on through the blackness of 
the inky night, until at last the poor wind- 
driven things finally sighted an object big and 
bright, beckoning, winking to them out of the 
darkness ; and toward this the gulls, and a host 
of other smaller straying birds who were swept 
ahead of the storm, made their way. Hopefully 
they neared the bright beacon. The next rough, 
whirling gale caught them and dashed them 
pitilessly against the lantern of the lighthouse, 
and down again upon the blackness of the cruel 
rocks beneath them. 

Fortunately, Silver Wing, the brave, giant 
gull, whose broad wings were still strong and un- 
wearied, had penetrated the inky darkness with 
his sharp eyes. He had seen the danger ahead, 
and just at the right instant had swerved aside, 
with powerful wing strokes, just clearing the 
great lamp, which had almost blinded his eyes. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 127 

So he with his mate, who invariably followed 
his lead, were swept coastward ahead of the 
mighty gale, but to safety. 

When morning broke, Silver Wing, and his 
mate found themselves upon the bank of a great 
river. Here were plenty of other gulls, but of a 
strange, new tribe. The river was bordered with 
mud flats, which at low tide formed splendid 
feeding grounds. Crawfish, and shoals of small, 
shining fish abounded. But, to tell the truth, 
neither the old gull nor his mate was very happy 
or contented with the river bank. They had 
known only the wild life of their lonely ocean 
island and missed the booming breakers along 
the cliffs, the companionship of the sea bird 
colonies, the terns, the gannets, and the little 
roving petrels. Besides, this new, almost tame 
tribe of gulls was vastly different in other respects. 
Silver Wing and his mate felt they could never 
mix with these small, brownish plumaged birds 
who fought and wrangled among themselves, 
who were content to brood for hours in the black 
mud of the river flats. More than once during 
their stay, Silver Wing had to finally thrash one 
of these bold, foolhardy brown gulls for presum- 
ing to pay attention to his own mate, and at 
last he came to hate the very spot, becoming 



128 WILD KINDRED OF 

wildly jealous of every brown gull who crossed 
him in any way. 

He and his mate determined to go off and seek 
a new home, for it was almost nesting time again, 
and Silver Wing realized the importance of 
settling as soon as possible. So, one day he gave 
the starting signal, and after hovering trium- 
phantly overhead above the gormandizing brown 
tribe upon the mud flats beneath them, scream- 
ing back a loud, lonely challenge, off they flew. 

For many days they flew along the shores of 
the Sound, now skimming low to dip their gray 
wings in the blue waves, flirting the spray high 
in silvery showers, or feeding along the beaches 
for little tender mussels or soft-shell clams, and 
playing tag with the funny little sandpipers 
who ran across the sands, and scattering them 
just for fun. At .last they reached a desolate, 
rocky strip of coast, and after much flying about 
they finally settled upon a convenient cliff be- 
neath which stretched a long line of sandy beach, 
while out beyond tumbled their dear, familiar 
breakers. Down below the cliff were jagged, 
brown rocks, over which trailed long, emerald 
green and brown sea kelp, where the water 
seeped in and out with the tides, leaving in the 
shallow places shoals of little fish, sea anemones, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 129 

and starfish. Through these the gulls would 
pick their way daintily, with their pink, webbed 
feet, searching out the barnacles which clung to 
the rocks, pecking at tiny, sheltering shells where 
lurked sweet morsels to be had for the cracking. 

The busy season came at last, however, and 
the two young gulls had to be fed, so all day 
long Silver Wing and his mate foraged and 
fished for them. They brought }^oung, tender 
herring which the small gulls, as they grew 
older, would swallow at one gulp. Occasionally 
they carried shell-fish to the nest ; these they 
would prepare for the young gulls by dropping 
them upon the rocks beneath and cracking the 
shells. 

One day the mother gull chanced to be long 
away. Already had Silver Wing traveled 
alone, so many times back and forth from the 
nest to the water with food for the little gulls, 
that he began to think his mate was trying to 
leave all the work for him, and he actually 
grew indignant at the very thought of such an 
imposition. He resolved to hunt up his lazy 
mate and make her do her share. With wide, 
swift strokes of his gray wings he started off, 
scanning with his sharp eyes every flashing 
wing to make sure it was not his mate. In vain 



130 WILD KINDEED OF 

he flew far and wide, even across to the other 
beach, more than a mile away ; still no trace of 
her could he find. 

Finally he began to fly low over the beach, 
searching in and out among the little coves. At 
last he heard a shrill cry ; plaintive and be- 
seeching, and it belonged to his mate. With 
great, wide sweeps he soon reached her side. 
She was down upon the sandy beach and seemed 
to be fluttering wildly. As Silver Wing drew 
near he saw her trouble ; she had been caught 
and was being firmly held by one foot, by noth- 
ing less than a giant clam. 

Meantime, slowly but surely the tide was com- 
ing in ; each wave that broke upon shore swirled 
just a little closer to his trapped mate. Soon 
she must be caught by the tide, and entrapped 
as she was, held as if in a vise by the giant 
shell-fish, she would surely drown. 

At first Silver Wing rose in the air in bewil- 
derment, calling wildly for his mate to join him, 
beating up and down the beach, hovering over 
her, then rising high in the air and screaming 
his commands. Still she did not follow him. 
At last the great gull seemed to have sized up 
the situation, and like a plummet he fell from 
the air and began a savage attack upon the hard 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 13l 

shell of the clam. With his strong beak he 
hammered, while his mate continued to beat her 
wings helplessly upon the sand, screaming 
wildly. 

Smash, smash, rang the beak of the gull, 
while in swirled the creeping tide, each time a 
little nearer the struggling gulls. It broke now 
in little foamy ripples close beside them. If 
the shell-fish failed to loosen its hold, the tide 
would soon cover them all. Down like a chisel 
came the strong beak of Silver Wing, while 
with his great webbed, sinewy feet he held the 
shell of the clam firmly, delivering his blows 
now always upon the one spot. 

Another blow, still another. Would the great 
shell-fish never loosen its grip ? Another ring- 
ing, cracking blow, and just as a larger wave 
came creeping stealthily inshore and broke over 
them, the giant clam loosened its awful hold 
upon the foot of the little mother gull, and the 
two birds with long, plaintive cries mounted 
into the free air. Dipping low just once over 
the incoming tide to snatch a herring from the 
waves in their beaks, away they flew swiftly 
back to the little gulls, who were impatiently 
awaiting their coming back upon the lonely 
ledges, far above the breakers. 




IMMENOS, 
USHER. WON HBBHI 



X 



HOW KOS-KO-MENOS, THE KINGFISHEK, WON 
HIS BELT 

HEAPS of strange happenings in Nature go 
unexplained. Some say 'tis because the 
wonderful old Indian story tellers who knew 
many wood secrets are gone. Long ago the lit- 
tle Indian children loved to squat beside some 
smouldering lodge fire and listen to these tales — 
these hidden secrets told of their little brothers 
of the wood. They were told how Moo-wee-suk, 
the racoon, always wore five rings about his 
plumy tail, why the red-winged blackbird is 
branded with two spots of living fire on its jetty 
wings, why the woodpecker carries a bright 
splash of fresh blood upon his crest, and also why 
the badger is always a kind of joke, just because 
of his war-paint markings. Some tales remain 
untold and one of them is how Kos-ko-menos, 
the great kingfisher, won his beautiful blue belt. 
Dee-dee-askh, the blue jay, had wintered in 
the deep pine forests instead of flying south one 

135 



136 WILD KINDRED OF 

autumn. Wild berries had been plentiful that 
year and the greedy jay hated to leave behind 
such good feasting, so he remained behind the 
migrating birds. He was glad though when 
the long, cold months of " The Snow Shoes " 
passed, for he was tired of feeding upon pine cone 
seeds, or anything which he could pick up in 
the forest. The snow had begun to melt away 
from the south sides of the hills and the moun- 
tain brooks roared tremendously, breaking free 
from their strong ice prisons, making pleasant 
music through the valleys and in the rocky 
passes of the mountains. 

The crows were colonizing, coming out from 
their retreats in the thick pine coverts, where 
they had huddled all winter to keep from freez- 
ing. They barked hoarsely to each other. The 
jay screamed loudly, trying to drown their cries 
and break up their council. Dee-dee-askh is 
not popular with the wood people, for he has 
always had the bad reputation of being a thief. 
He loves to watch smaller birds at their nest 
building and rob them of their eggs or the very 
young birds ; no wonder he is unpopular. 

Dee-dee-askh filled the woods with his harsh, 
strident screams and swooped down the valley, 
following Otter Creek until he reached a spot 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 137 

where it broadens. One side is a steep bank, 
and across towers the mountain, green with 
thick spruces to its summit. This forest was 
where the jay, and his mate decided to build 
their nest. Year after year they had located 
there and Dee-dee-askh had managed to rid 
himself of very near neighbors, fighting them 
savagely if they intruded upon his privacy, so 
remained a sort of monarch. He loved to con- 
ceal himself in some thick bush and frighten 
more timid birds, or little furry things. 

" Kee-oo, Kee-oo," would scream the jay, imi- 
tating to perfection the harsh scream of a hawk ; 
then how he would chuckle to himself to see the 
frightened things scurry, or fly off to hide them- 
selves in the thick woods. 

One day Kos-ko-menos himself, King of all 
the Kingfisher tribes, came journeying down 
the creek ; he was looking for a new building 
site, for, as it happened, the old fishing pool 
where he had lived the season before was too 
shallow, owing to the drought. So the fish had 
all gone up-stream seeking deeper pools. It 
was important that the kingfisher should locate 
near good fishing, because soon there would be 
young birds to feed. 

Taking six little, flapping short flights, then a 



138 WILD KINDRED OF 

glide, on came Kos-ko-menos, followed closely 
by his smaller mate. His beautiful crimson 
eyes searched up and down the creek as he flew, 
trying to decide upon the best building site. 
But when he came to the clay bank, he knew 
he need search no further ; nothing could be 
better. Without even waiting to rest them- 
selves, Kos-ko-menos and his mate soon began 
to make the dirt fly in all directions as they ex- 
cavated deeply for their new home. Round 
and smooth was their doorway, just large 
enough to admit one kingfisher at a time. 
About half-way up the side of the bank it was 
placed, and ran fully six feet, straight into the 
clay. Into a little hollow at the very end, they 
threw a few fish bones and loose leaves, then 
the beautiful eggs were laid, which in time 
would become three goggle-eyed, frowsy-headed 
little kingfishers, very ugly, but handsome to 
their parents, of course. 

Kos-ko-menos darted back and forth, flashing 
like a great blue jewel, as he took up his sentinel- 
like position upon a stake in the water, where 
he could peer straight down into the deep water 
for fish. He preened his feathers, shaking out 
the clinging clay, and gave loud screams, he felt 
so happy about the nest. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 139 

" Kerrr-ik-r-r-r," he screamed triumphantly, 
making a terrific sound, just exactly like that 
of a harsh, wooden toy buzzer, only louder, if 
possible. The very mountains rang with his 
cry. Then all the furry tribes knew for certain 
that Kos-ko-menos had come to live in that 
spot. Many of them disliked the idea very 
much ; they dreaded his harsh scream which 
made the more timid jump and disturbed their 
babies, it was such a horrid cry. The king- 
fisher has always been considered a kind of 
outcast among other birds. They imagine that 
he is uncanny ; that is, because of his wonder- 
ful skill at fishing, and because he can dart into 
the water quickly and stay under a long time, 
so they think perhaps he is himself more of a 
fish than a bird. They cannot understand why 
he does not walk properly, but has a way of 
waddling which is very funny because his legs 
are very short and placed far back upon his 
body. His great bushy crest makes him appear 
almost top-heavy and his appearance is un- 
gainly. 

I think, however, that the real reason why he 
is shunned by some birds, and shabbily treated 
is because they are, secretly, in their hearts, 
jealous of the beautiful feathers which Kos-ko- 



140 WILD KINDRED OF 

menos wears, because no matter how homely 
his body may be, it is beautifully clothed. 
Upon the top of his head he wears a long, high 
crest of rich, dark green, which color extends 
down his neck, and each little feather is flecked 
with spots of blue of a wonderful hue. Violet 
and blue is his coat, his tail a deep indigo blue. 
Over each crimson eye and just beneath it, is a 
cunning dot of black. He wears a thick, feath- 
ered waistcoat of yellowish white, and his beak 
is jet black. 

Once more Kos-ko-menos screamed his wooden- 
buzzer cry. Then like a flash he darted straight 
into the deepest part of the pool, and before the 
spray had fallen he was out again with a fine, 
wriggling fish. As he was about to kill the fish 
upon a near-by stone, a blue, flashing fury came 
dashing out of the woods with a harsh, angry 
scream, and Dee-dee-askh landed upon the crest 
of the kingfisher. They had a terrific battle ; 
back and forth, back and forth over the creek 
they flew, showers of light blue feathers barred 
with black and white fell, and a few speckled, 
green ones. Mrs. Kingfisher poked her head 
curiously forth from the bank to see what all 
the screaming meant. At last the jay flew back 
to the woods with a portion of his proud crest 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 141 

gone, and the kingfisher, smoothing down his 
ruffled feathers, gave another scream and went 
back to his fishing. Tis said that certain of the 
wood creatures who witnessed the conquering of 
the jay chuckled and grunted with joy, remem- 
bering sundry robberies of nests and burrows by 
Dee-dee-askh, the cruel one. After this they 
began to have a little more regard for Kos-ko- 
menos, the kingfisher; but this was just the 
beginning of things. 

Musquash, the muskrat, lived under the bank 
of the creek. Many of the little muskrats used 
to stray out upon the bank right in plain sight 
of an old pirate eagle which lived on the moun- 
tain, and which used to come sailing down the 
creek, watching to swoop down upon anything 
alive which he saw below. 

Musquash himself was old and almost blind ; 
he could not detect the eagle when he soared 
high above. One after another the young ones 
were stolen by the old pirate, old Bald Head. 
This had happened before the kingfisher came 
to live in the bank. One day Musquash him- 
self ventured up the bank after roots ; he did not 
see old Bald Head high above, watching him. 

But Kos-ko-menos sat upon his sentinel post 
watching. He thought he saw a faint white 



142 WILD KINDRED OF 

dot in the sky — the flashing of the sun upon 
the bald head of the old pirate. 

" Khr-r-r-r-rrr," screamed the kingfisher de- 
fiantly, as the old pirate was hovering his 
wings, making ready to drop down upon poor, 
old blind Musquash. Before he reached earth, 
Musquash, heeding the warning scream of 
Kos-ko-menos, was paddling straight for his hut 
under water. 

The kingfisher was glad to see the old sky 
pirate outwitted, and so glad to save Musquash, 
that he dove down after the fish he had been 
watching, caught it, and all the time he was 
eating the fish he kept up a little glad, chatter- 
ing chuckle, deep down inside. Many had seen 
how the kingfisher had saved old Musquash, 
and finally they all came to depend upon him 
to warn them when dangers came that vtay. 
Kos-ko-menos never failed them. 

The jay family raised three young, impudent 
jays. Already the young ones in the king- 
fishers' nest had stuck their fuzzy heads out of 
the hole in the bank, and both Dee-dee-askh 
and Kos-ko-menos had all they could do to get 
food enough for their families. One day the 
jay caught a fine catfish, and he thought to him- 
self that he might as well gobble it all up him- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 143 

self instead of taking it home. He flew quickly 
to a near-by stone to beat the catfish, lest it 
sting him with its sharp horn. As he was 
about to swallow the fish whole, he heard an 
angry scream from his home. His mate had 
been watching him all the time. Again came 
the cry, which sounded not unlike the sharp 
striking of metal, then a loud, shrill scream, 
" Cray-cray, cray ! " Dee-dee-askh saw a whirl 
of light blue feathers approaching. In his haste 
to bolt the fish whole, lest his mate take it from 
him, he choked and choked and swallowed. 
But alas, greedy fellow ! The fish was too large 
for just one mouthful, and he began to flutter 
helplessly upon the rock, while the tail of the 
catfish protruded from his mouth. 

Kos-ko-menos saw it all and chuckled to him- 
self, but he had a kind heart. Flying straight 
to the jay, he gave one sharp, strong tug at the 
tail of the catfish, and the greedy jay was saved. 
Some say the real reason the kingfisher seized 
the catfish was, because he wished to gobble it 
down himself — but that point is not certain. 
Kos-ko-menos had certainly saved his neighbor 
from choking to death, which showed he bore 
no grudge against the jay. Of course all the 
wood people saw the kind act of Kos-ko-menos, 



144 WILD KINDRED OF 

and it made a deep impression upon them ; they 
marveled, because the jay had been so rude to 
the kingfisher. It was nice of him to forget 
his mean treatment, they thought. 

Down deep in a certain pool of the creek lived 
old Kenozha, the pickerel, dreaded and feared 
for years by all the inhabitants of the banks 
who swam in the water, or fished for a living. 
The sly old fellow had a cruel way of coming 
up just beneath them when they were in water, 
and before they knew it he had nipped off a toe, 
a tail, or even a head. The turtles had lost 
claws, the giant bullfrog, leader of the spring 
choruses, was minus a foot, and even the wary 
old loon had lost a toe. Kos-ko-menos, who 
knew all about the old pickerel and his crafty 
ways, determined to rid the pool of him, and 
took to watching for him, as many another had 
before him ; the jay, the loon, and the hawks 
had all fished for Kenozha, but this is why they 
had failed : the old fellow had seen their shadows 
upon the water. So, wise Kos-ko-menos, the 
kingfisher, knew better than to let his shadow 
fall upon the water, but took good care to perch 
upon his watch tower at just the right angle so 
that he should throw no reflection, and the 
green, goggle eyes of the pickerel could not spy 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 145 

him. There was great excitement along the 
banks of the creek one day, when Kos-ko-menos 
arose from the creek bearing the struggling old 
pickerel in his strong beak, and much interest 
as they watched him subdue and beat Kenozha 
until he could struggle no longer. All were 
glad ; even Dee-dee-askh came screaming out of 
the forest, while grunts and chuckles of approval 
might be heard from many a retreat, where hid 
the wood brothers. And 'tis said that even a 
soft, murmuring song of praise stirred among 
the whispering pines up aloft. 

Soon after that time, the watchful ones no- 
ticed the beginning of a faint blue band across 
the breast feathers of the kingfisher. Gradually 
it deepened and widened, finally becoming a well 
defined belt right across the pale yellow waist- 
coat of the kingfisher. 

And ever since that time Kos-ko-menos and 
all his tribe after him continue to wear this 
badge of honor, this belt of azure hue, like 
belted knights of old. The kingfisher is no 
longer an outcast among the little brothers of 
the wood. 



XI 
THE WIT OF CLOWN-FACE, THE BADGEK 

IT was full of the moon at the seashore, and the 
young field corn close by was ripe ; each 
pearly kernel almost bursting with its milky 
sweet contents. What a time for a corn roast or 
frolic ; so thought all the boys along that partic- 
ular strip of beach, which shelved its way down 
from a dense forest of spruce and hemlock to the 
edge of the water. 

There were others, the furry things, the four- 
footed people of the woods, who knew just as 
well as the boys what good times were to be had 
at that particular season, and they made their 
plans accordingly. The boys had visited the 
beach that same night, roasted their corn and 
oysters, and left long before. The shore was ap- 
parently quite deserted. The ebbing tide was 
stealing out softly, scraping and rasping upon 
the little round pebbles, sending little golden 
shells tinkling musically against each other, as 
the water lapped and filtered through them. 

149 



150 WILD KINDRED OF 

Overhead shone the great yellow moon, making 
a wide silvery path straight out across the water. 
One wondered where the road ended. 

Back from the beach in the dark woods, plenty 
of life was now stirring, for the nocturnal prowl- 
ers were waking up, although the small win- 
dows of the scattered farmhouses were dark and 
still. Above the noise of the ebb tide the 
katydids were heard contradicting each other 
tirelessly, hoarsely, " katy-did, katy-didn't." 
Crickets shrilled in the long, coarse beach grass ; 
a distant screech-owl set up an occasional 
shivery wail. Then, from amid the thickets of 
scrub oak and barberiy bushes, came another 
call — an unusual cry, not often heard, which be- 
gan with a tremulous whimper, ceased, then 
went on ; and was finally taken up and answered 
by another similar, whimpering cry, and still 
another, from different parts of the woods. The 
first call had been given forth by an old hermit 
racoon, or a " little brother of the bear." He 
was something of a leader, and was sending out 
a summons for all his relatives to join him in a 
moonlight frolic. 

The old hermit scrambled hastily down from 
his home tree, which happened to be the deserted 
nest of a great owl. Plainly the old hermit 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 151 

would soon outgrow this borrowed home, for 
when sweet corn is in the milk, and the little 
salt, wild oysters are a-plenty down on the beach, 
then the racoon became so very fat that he could 
barely waddle. Of course he felt obliged to 
fatten himself in late summer, for already he 
was making ready for his all winter's sleep and 
his long, long season of fasting. 

Having reached the ground, the hermit sent 
out another call — the rallying cry of his tribe ; 
for dearly the racoon loves to feast and frolic in 
company and was becoming impatient to start 
off. The only reason, I suspect, why the old 
hermit lived absolutely alone, at this time, was 
merely because there was absolutely not an inch 
of spare room for another racoon in the nest. 

To his joy, his kindred had responded, and 
soon from out of the shadowy places stole one 
waddling form, then another, until finally five 
racoons were in the party. Then with the 
hermit leading them, Indian file, they all made 
their way leisurely to the distant corn field. In 
and out among the tall rows of nodding, whisper- 
ing blades they stole, and standing upon their 
little black hind feet, they would reach up the 
corn stalk, and deftly pull down a plump ear 
with their forepaws, which they used as cleverly 



152 WILD KINDRED OF 

as hands. They never made the mistake of 
selecting blackened, mildewed ears ; these and 
the shriveled, dwarfed ears they tossed disdain- 
fully aside, and my ! what havoc those coons did 
make in the corn field that night ! They would 
strip off the silky green husks and eat out only 
the full, milky kernels, smearing their black 
noses and paws liberally with the juice which 
they would hasten to rinse off at the first water 
they found. 

There were others in the field that night, but 
they never interfered with one another ; there 
was plenty of corn for all. The woodchuck 
family also enjoyed sweet corn in the milk, and 
tempted by the moonlight, they had left their 
burrow to feast. Off beyond, skirting the edges 
of the tall corn, skulked a swift, fleeting shadow — 
Redbrush, the fox, bound for the chicken coops, 
or hoping to find a covey of quail or partridges 
sleeping in the edge of the wheat field. Back in 
a little creek which bubbled in places, broaden- 
ing out into still, deep haunts for trout and 
pickerel, the moonlight found its way. Here 
and there you might discover the huts of the 
muskrats, mostly deserted, for the inhabitants 
were all abroad. You might see their brown heads 
above water, follow the wake of their silvery 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 153 

trails, and hear their playful squeaks as they 
chased each other from village to village. Oh, 
there were squeaks a-plenty that night all 
through the deep clover and among the tall 
grain, while beneath roofs fast asleep and dream- 
ing were the children. 

For the most part, the wild things appeared 
to live together in peace and harmony ; occasion- 
ally bitter feelings were felt when the racoons 
thrust their black paws into a woodpecker's nest 
and robbed it of eggs. Then, too, old Mrs. 
Diamond-back, the turtle, would deposit her 
eggs in a spot which she fondly imagined very 
secret, failing utterly to look up above, where, 
from a limb, the greenish inquisitive eyes of the 
hermit watched her every movement. Taking 
it altogether, there was little to disturb their 
happy life then. Times were going to change 
and very soon in an unexpected fashion. 

Clown-face, the badger, had been routed out 
of his distant home nest on the far side of the 
mountain by an enemy. Because he enjoyed 
roving, he took up the life of a tramp and made 
a trip to the seashore, for he dearly loved the 
little black mussels which he remembered hav- 
ing once found there. As it happened, badgers 
were not common in that section of the country ; 



154 WILD KINDRED OF 

perhaps one of them had never happened to 
venture over upon that side of the mountain, 
even, so none of the wild things had ever en- 
countered this queer looking fellow. 

Queer looking he certainly was, and the 
funniest thing about him was that the sly old 
fellow, who had often looked at himself in some 
still pool, knew exactly how odd he appeared to 
others. He had wit enough to use this knowl- 
edge for his own purposes. Once seen, the 
clown face of the badger was not soon forgotten 
by other animals. He soon discovered that 
when a stranger appeared suddenly on the trail 
whom he did not care to meet, all he had to do 
usually was to stand still, and stare and stare at 
the intruder, who invariably would back out or 
side-step from the trail, leaving it clear to the 
badger ; why, I will explain. 

In the first place, the badger was just about 
as broad as he w r as long. His thick fur coat, 
which was flowing and parted in the middle of 
his back, nearly reaching the ground, looked 
for all the world as if he carried a goatskin rug 
across his back. His legs were short and he ap- 
peared not unlike a great, hairy caterpillar as he 
waddled along. But his fore feet carried two 
tremendously long hooked claws which, if cor- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 155 

nered, he would use in fight, for his courage was 
very great. His head was broad and furry with 
short ears. The strangest thing about the badger 
was his face, which was marked exactly like a 
funny clown. Although his back was gray — 
one may still hear the saying, " gray as a 
badger " — his head and neck were of short dark 
brown fur, while like a dash of white paint ran 
a mark of snowy fur from the bridge of his nose, 
back to the nape of his neck. On either cheek 
was another dash of white, reaching from the 
tops of his ears to the corners of his mouth. Be- 
low this was marked out a little crescent of 
white, set off by a stripe of dark fur. Alto- 
gether, the badger always appeared to be wear- 
ing a kind of painted disguise. No wonder 
then, when he stared straight at any animal 
who had never seen such a funny face, that it 
turned and ran in an opposite direction. Such 
was the make-up of Clown-face, the badger. 
Even now he was making his way in the moon- 
light to new grounds, where he would be seen 
and feared. Clown-face was in search of a de- 
serted burrow into which he could crawl and 
rest, for he was tired. He soon came to the de- 
serted home of the woodchuck family. Into 
this he crept, taking care to crawl in and turn 



156 WILD KINDRED OF 

around, so as to leave his painted face right in 
the doorway ; then he went to sleep. 

After the hermit racoon and his friends had 
feasted upon sweet corn, they left the corn field, 
and took a stroll down the beach. The tide was 
out. In among the wet pebbles scurried droves 
of little green crabs, while clinging to rocks 
were small, salt wild oysters, which racoons 
dearly love and which, for this reason, are some- 
times called " coon oysters," so greedily do the 
racoons search for them. It was a funny sight 
to see the five fat racoons strolling along the 
beach by moonlight. When they came to a 
bunch of oysters, down they would plump and, 
taking the oyster in their hind feet, they would 
deftly crack it open against a stone and dabble 
it up and down in the water with their little 
black hands, washing it thoroughly. For the 
racoon, you know, from its habit of washing its 
food, is often called " Lotor, the washer." There 
the little company of coons stayed until turn of 
tide, when they went back over the wet sand, 
treading upon their toes and leaving their al- 
most human five-fingered little tracks all along 
the beach, as they went back to the forest again. 

The first to reach home that night was the 
woodchuck family. They were quite ready for 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 157 

sleep, in the fine burrow which they had spent 
days in digging. The bushes rustled as they 
swished them aside, and the rustling they made 
awakened the badger who had been dozing in 
the entrance of the burrow. Just as Dame 
Woodchuck came to her door, out popped the 
funny painted face of the badger right into her 
very eyes. It grunted at her fiercely and she 
hastily backed away with a cry of terror. Never 
had the woodchucks seen anything like the 
badger. They waited for it to come out, but it 
stayed right in the burrow, so the old wood- 
chuck made bold to go to the rear entrance, and 
squeezing her fat body flat she entered, only to 
be met by the awful clown-like face again. She 
hastily backed out. All night the badger re- 
mained in possession of the woodchuck's bur- 
row and for days after, until finally they left it 
to him and began to dig a new burrow some 
distance away from the old one. 

The next night all the wild kindred were 
again astir. The woodchucks had spent most 
of the day upon their new burrow. They still 
had to add chambers ; it was at least a home, so 
off they went foraging with the others, for corn 
is not always in the milk and it is not always 
moonlight. That night the old hermit racoon 



158 WILD KINDEED OF 

had planned to go back into the forest to dig 
wake-robin roots. Often, after a great feast, the 
coons enjoy a diet of these roots, perhaps eating 
them as a sort of medicine, because they are hot 
and as fiery as pepper, although, with all their bit- 
ing, peppery taste, the coons devour them greedily. 
In Indian file, off started the coons, and soon 
succeeded in finding a bed of the coveted wake- 
robin roots which they began to tear up hastily. 
Clown-face, the badger, was also abroad, hunt- 
ing field-mice or any young, tender creature 
which he might track. Creeping through the 
matted jungles of undergrowth, he soon discov- 
ered the racoons digging up roots. Thinking 
to have some fun at their expense and perhaps 
drive them away from something which he 
might eat, suddenly he stuck his painted clown- 
like face through a dark opening of the bushes 
and grunted at them. The old hermit himself 
spied the horrible face first, and so frightened 
was he that without pausing to finish the root 
in his black paws, he tore off through the bushes 
with all the others following him. The hermit 
did not stop running until he reached his home 
tree, for never had he seen or dreamed of such 
a face as that which had peered out at him from 
the woods. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 159 

In time Clown-face, the badger, by using his 
wits managed to have things pretty much his 
own way there in the forest. He found where 
the young quail nested. He foraged in the un- 
protected huts of the muskrats and stole their 
young. He ate the turtles' eggs and made him- 
self a great nuisance to all. The only living 
thing which Clown-face, the badger, dreads now 
is the hedgehog, for, being almost as ugly and 
strange appearing as the badger, it does not 
fear him or turn aside. So between the two is 
a bitter feud, because Clown-face often ventures 
to devour the hedgehog's rations. Some time 
I know there is going to be a terrific encounter 
between them in the woods, because the stupid- 
appearing hedgehog never troubles himself to 
get out of the badger's way, but lies down in his 
very path, quite unconcernedly. One day 
Clown-face is going to get to the limit of his 
patience and rebel. Then I wonder which one 
will come off the better, the badger or the 
hedgehog ? 

Meantime, the wit of Clown-face, the badger, 
serves him very well. He still roams over the 
forest trails and along the beach unmolested by 
the wild. 



XII 

THE SUGAK CAMP ON LONE MOUNTAIN 

IT was nearing March, but deep snow still cov- 
ered the hills up in the North country, though 
there were, as yet, scant signs of spring ; not 
even a bird was to be seen, excepting occasion- 
ally a solitary crow. When the sun shone out 
in the middle of the day, the brown fence tops 
began to show above the white drifts down in 
the clearings. By night the freezing cold re- 
turned ; everything froze up solid, and upon the 
snow crusts which were thick and glossy it was 
just the best kind of coasting. 

There were other important things for boys 
to think about besides fun and coasting ; it was 
just the right sort of weather to begin making 
maple sugar. For when it freezes hard, then 
thaws, the sap will run ; so up near the lumber 
camps, where Dick and Joe lived, the sugar 
season was commencing. Several miles back 
of the camps upon the side of a wild mountain, 
rightly called Lone Mountain, grew a great for- 

163 



164 WILD KINDRED OF 

est of maples. The spot was too far away for 
most of the campers to bother about sugar mak- 
ing, but Dick and Joe did not mind distances, 
and as all the spending money which the boys 
had they were expected to earn for themselves, 
they were only too glad to have the privilege 
of tapping the maples on Lone Mountain. Even 
before the sap began to flow, they had actually 
counted over the money they would earn with 
their sugar and had really spent almost every 
cent. 

They whittled out hundreds of fine ash spills 
to run the sap, then borrowed, every crock and 
pail their mother could spare from the camp to 
hold it, besides two great black iron kettles, 
which they would set over an arch built of large 
flat stones, where they would boil their syrup. 
After packing provisions, and all their outfit 
upon a sledge, off they started for Lone Moun- 
tain, a day's journey from camp. 

Wild and lonely enough was Lone Mountain, 
a kind of scary spot at best for two boys to camp 
out alone, but they were not at all afraid, for 
they were used to wild places. Having lived so 
long in the great spruce forests they felt quite at 
home. Several years before, they had found the 
remains of an old sugar house standing in the 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 165 

maple grove on the mountain below a great, 
overhanging crag. Here they would live, and 
boil the sap just outside the shack. After tap- 
ping their trees, they drove in the spills, hang- 
ing the buckets beneath. As fast as the sap 
collected they had to boil it, or it would soon 
sour and be wasted. So, as you can well imagine, 
both boys were kept very busy, collecting sap, 
keeping up fires under the great iron kettles, 
watching the boiling sugar, and testing it upon 
the snow to find out when it was boiled enough. 
When night came they were very tired, but 
they kept at their sugar making as long as the 
sap continued to run from the trees. They had 
been on Lone Mountain over a week. With the 
continued thawings and freezing, the sap kept 
on running, but the boys were glad, for it meant 
a fine lot of sugar and they were greatly elated 
over their good luck. They would carry back 
more sugar to camp than ever before. 

" If we can only have two days more like to- 
day's run of sap, we'd make a pile of money this 
year," spoke Dick happily ; " we could buy two 
dandy overcoats, and have something toward 
our new sugaring outfit, that we talked with 
father about buying." 

" Yep, I know ; great ! " replied Joe, as he 



166 



WILD KINDRED OF 



ladled out a great waxy spoonful of amber sugar 
upon a pan of snow, and after it had cooled a bit 
divided it with Dick. 

" Bully, ain't it ? " offered Dick, cleaning off 
the spoon. " Best we ever made — fine and white ; 
it'll fetch top prices. But say, we could make 
it still better if we only had a new up-to-date 
outfit. We've got to get it somehow, I guess, 
even if we don't buy new coats this year ; guess 
our old ones will go another year ; we ain't 
dudes." 

Sure enough, that day to the delight of the 
boys, another thaw came and the sap ran as it 
never had done before and kept them jumping 
well to save it all. 

" One of us will have to stay awake and tend 
fires and watch, to-night. We can't finish up 
anyhow, and we can't afford to waste all this 
sap. I'll boil all night," said Dick, tucking the 
embers in around the great kettle. 

" You won't tend alone. If you stay up all 
night I shall too," said Joe, stoutly. " Guess 
we're partners on this sugar making, ain't 
we?" 

" Of course. Tell you what we will do : I'll 
tend till midnight, while you sleep, then you 
can work the rest of the night while I sleep," 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 167 

suggested Dick. To which his brother agreed 
willingly. 

The boys ate their supper, boiling their eggs 
in sap, and finishing up with brown bread spread 
thickly with soft, new maple sugar. And oh, 
how fine it tasted to the two tired boys. Soon 
Joe was fast asleep in the shack upon his fragrant 
bed of balsam boughs, rolled up in an old patch- 
work quilt, his mother had made him take, for 
it always grows bitterly cold in the mountains 
before morning. Dick grinned to himself, as he 
worked alone and heard Joe's tired snores com- 
ing from the shack, and he made up his mind to 
let him sleep after midnight and get well rested. 
He kept very busy himself tending the bubbling 
syrup in both kettles and bringing fire-wood. 
It was somewhat lonely off up there in the 
mountain, now there was no one to talk to, 
thought Joe to himself. The wind sighed and 
whined in the tops of the spruces. Occasionally, 
he heard a mysterious crack upon the snow 
crusts, off in the woods, where some hoof or paw 
broke through. Finally, an old owl began its 
lonely hoot above the shack somewhere, and 
once he heard a long, whimpering yell, far across 
the valley. He knew what that meant ; a lynx 
was abroad, venturing down into the clearings 



168 WILD KINDRED OF 

after a sheep, perhaps. Joe looked back into 
the shack rather longingly after the lynx yelled ; 
he was almost tempted to awaken Dick, but 
decided, unselfishly, not to. 

At last, long after midnight, Joe himself began 
to feel extremely worn out and sleepy. A great 
stillness had settled over everything ; even the 
wind seemed to soothe him to drowsiness, while 
the sap bubbled and blubbered softly and mon- 
otonously in the iron kettles. In spite of all he 
could do, Joe's tired eyes closed together, and, 
untended, the fires under the black kettles 
burned lower and lower. Out beyond the camp, 
breaking through the snow crusts, unheard, stole 
a huge, black, shambling figure, closely followed 
by two smaller ones. A great black mother 
bear, and her two very young cubs, and she was 
heading them straight for the boys' sugar camp. 
The cubs were so young they had difficulty in 
keeping up with their mother, for they were 
tired. It had been a long distance down from 
the den, but the mother bear did not spare them, 
and kept nosing them along impatiently when 
they halted along the trail. Now if there is one 
thing on earth a bear loves even more than 
honey, it is maple sugar. The scent of the boil- 
ing syrup arose even above the woodsy odors, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 169 

and delicious enough it seemed to the old bear ; 
she was eager to reach the camp. 

At last the little trio came out into a small 
clearing surrounding the shack. The old bear 
halted, warily, but all was now silent. Inside 
the shack lay one boy fast asleep, rolled in his 
patchwork quilt, while half leaning against a tree 
slept another. The sugar had ceased to bubble 
and wallop in the great kettles, for the fires were 
almost out. Between the kettles shuffled the 
old bear, followed by the cubs, whimpering 
wearily and crossly. The old bear arose upon 
her hind feet snuffing and grunting, but never 
offering to disturb the sleeping boys ; all she 
cared about now, was to find maple sugar. She 
was of monstrous size, and when she finally en- 
tered the shack, she completely filled up the rude 
doorway with her huge form. She nosed about, 
but did not find the stored sugar, so out she 
shambled, and cautiously approaching a great, 
black kettle, she sniffed long and deliciously at 
its contents, blowing out the whitened ashes in 
clouds from the blackened embers with her 
breath. The cubs meantime seated themselves 
close by and watched her movements curiously. 

Then the old bear did a very foolish thing. 
So eager was she to get a taste of the sugar in 



170 



WILD KINDRED OF 



the kettle that she reached in with one great 
furry paw, burning it severely. She immedi- 
ately lost her head, and in her rage upset the 
whole kettle full of hot syrup all over herself. 
Then there was something doing ! With a ter- 
rific howl of pain and sudden terror, which 
made such a racket that the mountains fairly 
echoed back her cries, the old bear tore off into 
the woods in a perfect frenzy of agony, her 
heavy coat soaked with hot syrup, which burned 
its way deeper and deeper at every step. With- 
out heeding the cubs, or what became of them, 
she ran wildly on, only seeking water where she 
might cool her burning flesh. As soon as Dick 
and Joe heard the first yell of the bear, they 
were wide awake, you may be sure. Joe saw 
the old bear just as she disappeared in the 
woods, and scared almost out of his wits he 
shouted : 

"Hi, Dick, bears! Look! There goes one 
big as a house, and see, there's another one," 
pointing out one helpless, whimpering little cub 
which had been left behind by the old bear in 
her madness. 

" Where ? " inquired Dick, skeptically, as he 
appeared from inside the shack rubbing his eyes 
sleepily. " What, that thing f It couldn't hurt 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 171 

a fly ; it's just a baby. I hope you ain't afraid 
of a bear cub that size." 

" Well, I didn't say I was," replied Joe, rather 
touchily. " You just ought to have seen the 
big one I saw, and heard its yells. It was awful. 
It turned over most a whole kettle of hot syrup. 
Look ! " and Joe pointed to the overturned 
kettle. 

" No wonder it yelled," grinned Dick ; " though 
come to think, it got pretty well scalded ; that's 
why it yelled so, I guess. And say, it won't 
come back here right off either, I'll bet. But 
look, he's wasted most a whole kettle full of 
good syrup — meddling old thing. Say, why in 
creation didn't you wake a fellow up ? " 

" Oh, well, I guess, come to think of it, I must 
have been asleep. I seem to remember just 
closing my eyes once or twice," confessed Joe. 

" Great Scott ! I should think you did. Let 
a bear come into camp and not wake you up ; 
ha ! ha ! " jeered Dick. " But look here ; we're 
in something, if we did lose some sugar ; we've 
got a bear cub, and my, ain't he a dandy? " 

" Look, look, Dick ! He's sitting up and rub- 
bing his' eyes with his paw and crying, just like 
a little kid. My, ain't he the funniest little fel- 
low ? " spoke Joe delightedly watching the cub, 



172 WILD KINDRED OF 

and both boys had great fun over their new pet, 
which they meant to take back with them to 
the lumber camps. 

" Sugaring all finished to-day," commented 
Dick, as the sun rose over the tops of the tall 
spruces, and they ate their breakfast, sharing 
their bacon rinds with the bear cub, which had 
seemed to take to them at once. 

" Won't we surprise the folks when we lug all 
this sugar home, and a bear cub too ? " spoke 
Joe. " Say, look at his head, Dick ; see, he's 
got a funny mark from his nose to the back of 
his ears ; I'll bet when he sheds his woolly, baby 
fur, it'll be a regular white streak right across 
his face. I heard Indian Pete tell once about a 
white-faced bear ; they're awful rare." 

41 Hope the folks will let us keep this fellow 
in camp," said Joe. " He'll make a fine pet, 
and Indian Pete'll help us to teach him tricks, 
perhaps." 

" Say, what if the old bear comes back for her 
cub? She'll be awful mad at us, and I guess 
we better make tracks, and leave here soon as 
we can," suggested Dick, peering back into the 
thick woods, almost expecting to see the old 
bear making for them. 

" Huh, I ain't afraid ; she's probably so badly 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 173 

burned, she won't think of anything else for a 
while. Just the same, we'll break camp," re- 
plied Joe. 

So back to camp they went in triumph, their 
sugar packed on the sledge, and on top of the 
load sat the little, furry bear cub, which they had 
already named Whitey. Because Whitey was 
such a cunning little fellow, he was accepted in 
camp, and soon became a perfect pet. He was 
full of mischief, however, and could never be 
left within reach of the sugar crocks. He broke 
and filched eggs, and even gnawed whole sides 
of bacon. To make up for his mischief, he ac- 
quired many taking tricks. He soon learned to 
stand on his head, and beg for lumps of maple 
sugar, and was beginning to take a few clumsy, 
capering steps, which Indian Pete called dancing. 

Evil days came, and as Whitey grew older he 
became cross, and would often bite and scratch 
roughly. So finally, the boys were told they 
would have to part with their pet. 

Now, as good luck would have it, an opportu- 
nity came to sell the bear to a man who dealt in 
trained animals. Dick and Joe went sadly to 
work, and built for him a rough coop with slats 
in front. In this coop Whitey was crated, and 
the following day he would be taken away. For 



174 WILD KINDRED OF 

the last time, the boys visited him in his crate, 
which had been set behind the camp, in the edge 
of the woods, so that his whines might not dis- 
turb the camp through the night. Early the 
next morning before sunup, the team would take 
him away. The boys threw in lumps of sugar 
and things which their pet fancied most, and 
after shaking his rough paw, sadly they said 
good-bye to him, for Whitey would be gone be- 
fore they were astir in the morning. 

That very night, when everybody was asleep, 
from far across the valley, traveled a great, 
shambling black bear. She had come from far 
over the other side of Lone Mountain. She 
shuffled her way to the boys' sugar camp first. 
In and out of the desolate shack she stole, 
stopped to sniff at the blackened firebrands, 
nosed anxiously about the spot where her cub 
had rested so long ago, when one cub had fol- 
lowed her back to the den, and the other had 
been lost. Then, wheeling suddenly about, she 
took ah almost worn-out, indistinct trail, which 
led into the forest ; and starting into a broken 
canter, she headed toward the lumber camps. 

Thus it happened when the team halted to 
pick up the wooden crate, and carry the bear 
cub to town, there was no cub to be found. All 



FUK, FEATHER AND FIN 175 

that remained was a heap of broken, splintered 
boards. The boys soon spied out the small 
tracks of Whitey, and then Indian Pete pointed 
out two other great, broad marks — the tracks of 
a full-grown bear. The mother bear had never 
forgotten her cub ; she had come back for it at 
last, and just in the nick of time. The boys 
were secretly glad that their pet had regained 
his freedom. Surely, in the great, green spruce 
forests, where the red raspberries grew thick and 
sweet on the mountainsides, and the wild honey 
may be taken any day, Whitey would be far, 
far happier, than capering and doing tricks to 
amuse a curious crowd. 

Years after, a white-faced bear boldly ap- 
proached the boys' sugar camp, and was seen by 
them, but they did not fear him, for they were 
almost certain it must be their old pet, Whitey, 
who gained his freedom long before. 




tie ramiE SNOWY 



ffWKi: 
1 



XIII 

THE PEKIL OF THE SNOWY EGRETS 

IN the heart of a certain dense cypress swamp, 
in the middle South, lies a pond of water, 
which is fed by many streams, winding and 
percolating their sluggish courses through the 
vast swamp lands. It is lonely and wild there. 
This is what makes the place such a safe retreat 
for the birds. Each spring they come back to 
this spot, the wood ducks, the bitterns, the teal, 
and the little blue heron family. Their flash- 
ing, brilliant plumage lights up the sombre 
darkness of the jungles, while their strident 
cries make the spot less lonely. Perhaps the 
little blue herons are the very noisiest of all. 
Wading in the water on their stilt-like legs, 
searching for minnows or crawfish, they are al- 
most sure to have a quarrel, if one of them gets 
a prize fish, and then what a clamor they can 
make. Away off in the swamp it sounds almost 
as if they were screaming back and forth, " Tell 
you what, tell you what," over and over again. 

179 



180 WILD KINDRED OF 

One spring day after most of the birds had 
arrived at the pond, peering skyward from their 
fishing, they saw two specks approaching. 
Gradually the specks drew nearer and nearer, 
and finally, when they reached the precise spot 
where they meant to settle, straight down, like 
plummets, they fell, right into the swamp. 
Then all the other birds set up a noisy, clamor- 
ous welcome, for the great Snowy Egrets, the 
most important newcomers of the season, had 
arrived. Beautiful beyond description is the 
great Snowy Egret. Snow white is its exquisite 
plumage, that wherever it appears it lights up 
the dark, gloomy swamps and jungles with its 
purity. The beak and legs of the egret are 
black, its eyes a golden yellow, while from its 
back trails a wonderful long spray of soft, snowy 
plumes, which float behind like a white robe as it 
flies. These beautiful plumes are longer on the 
mother bird, and at nesting time she uses them 
to cover the baby egrets. 

Having found a choice place in a stunted 
cypress, the egrets soon set about their nest 
building, choosing a site about forty feet above 
the swamp. Very affectionate and loving with 
each other are the egrets ; whenever the male 
bird leaves the cypress, on his return, he makes 






FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 181 

such a fuss over his mate, greeting her as joy- 
fully and tenderly as though he had been gone 
a week. In fact, the egrets are gentle, trusting 
birds, and have few enemies among the wild. 
The father egret does most of the hard work, too, 
for he gathers all the twigs for the nest, which 
the mother egret carefully builds. Taking 
turns, the egrets sit upon the four eggs, and 
in eighteen days the little, homely, featherless 
egrets appear, naked except for a few tufts of 
down. This makes them very tender, and the 
mother egret covers them over during the in- 
tense heat of the day with her soft trailing 
plumes. 

At daybreak the father egret would fly off, 
returning with a crop or pouch full of tiny fish, 
and while the mother was away getting her own 
breakfast, the young egrets were fed. Clinging 
to the edge of the nest, father egret would 
stretch forth his long, snowy neck over the little 
ones. And one by one he would produce the fish 
which he had brought home, only partially 
swallowed, and which the little egrets would 
gobble up quickly. It took such a quantity of 
food to satisfy the baby egrets, that the old birds 
made many, many trips across the swamp to the 
water during the day. 



182 WILD KINDRED OF 

Now, although the desolate swamp country 
appeared deserted enough, excepting for its bird 
and wild life, back on the edges of the vast 
wilderness, Italian families had located, to begin 
clearing up the jungles of wild timber, and drain 
the swamp lands. So this is how it happened 
that Tony and Papita, his small sister, came to 
live in the swamps. Not a very pleasant place 
to live in, but their father and mother were 
there, so they did not mind ; besides, as Tony 
and his sister were too young to work, they 
had fine times exploring together. In the 
swamps they found plenty of wild, new things, 
wonderful flowers, and long mosses, and queer 
toadstools. Tony came across an old dugout 
one day, abandoned by some swamper, and 
then the children began to go upon voyages 
of discovery. They paddled up and down the 
narrow, sluggish streams which wound through 
the swamp, and each day they would venture a 
little farther. They were never afraid of the 
loneliness, or any wild thing they saw. Often a 
great snake would slide heavily off a log into the 
water, as they stole by in the old boat. At first 
Papita would shiver, but Tony always laughed 
at her fears, and now she had become quite as 
brave at swamp sights as her brother. 



FUK, FEATHEK AND FIN 183 

One day Tony almost thought himself lost; 
they found themselves in such a dense, dark spot. 
At first there seemed no way of getting through. 

" We best turn back now, Tony," suggested 
Papita ; " it's the end, I think." 

" No, see, the light comes through, soon — we 
go on a little further." Tony paddled on, man- 
fully, and they leaned low to avoid the long, 
snake-like vines of bamboo. Sure enough, a few 
tugs of the paddles brought them right through 
the dark place, out into such a wonderful, new 
spot, they were glad they had kept on. At first, 
such a noise began around them, as the old boat 
shot through into the light, that Tony and Papita 
were almost afraid, until they found out what 
it all meant. Hawks whistled sharply over- 
head, and the air was filled with water-fowl, 
which arose from a little island in the middle 
of the pond they had entered. Wings flapped, 
there were harsh croaks on all sides, while the 
blue herons set up their " Tell you what, tell 
you what," cry. 

The children stared about them in astonish- 
ment, and, as they stared, a strange thing hap- 
pened. Right out of the skies, so it first ap- 
peared to Tony, a wonderful, snowy form came 
flying, trailing behind it, what appeared to the 



184 WILD KINDKED OF 

children, a beautiful white robe. Its great 
snowy wings were wide spread, and it finally 
settled in a dark cypress, where its wonderful 
plumes shone out so pure and white that the 
children were both awed by the strange sight. 
Now there was one thing only, which they knew 
about, and which they imagined bore a faint re- 
semblance to this white winged thing : their 
mother treasured an illuminated card with a 
pictured angel. 

" Say, Tony," almost whispered Papita, " per- 
haps it is an angel." 

" No, no," replied more sensible Tony. " It's 
a real bird, but a kind of angel bird perhaps." 

Thus did Tony and his little sister catch their 
first sight of the great Snowy Egret. After that, 
having once found their way to its haunts, they 
often came to the hidden bayou, to watch the 
egrets at their nest building, taking care never 
to alarm them. At first, the egrets, which are 
shy, did not like the children so near, especially 
in nesting time. Often, the male egret would 
hover over the old dugout, calling down impa- 
tiently, " Cruk, cruk, cruk," which meant 
plainly enough, " Go away, go away, go away." 
But the children came so often, that the egrets, 
even the blue heron tribes, and other water-fowl, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 185 

became accustomed to the old boat, and did not 
mind its coming and going. 

It was an exciting time for the children when 
the little egrets came ; then Tony and Papita 
came every day. They watched the feeding of 
the babies and heard the old egret call, " Cruk, 
cruk, cruk " on his way back to the nest with 
his pouch full of little fish. Soon the little 
egrets raised themselves in the nest and called 
back eagerly, " Kek, kek, kek," which Tony 
said meant, " More, more, more." 

And now comes the sad part of my story, but 
it must be told, because every boy and girl 
should learn about the peril of the beautiful 
Snowy Egret, and know what happened to these 
wonderful " angel birds " which Tony and 
Papita so loved .and watched. 

It was Tony who learned about it first, so he 
told Papita, one night before they went to sleep, 
up aloft in their shack, where the stars had a 
way of peeping in through the board roof and 
winking at them. 

" Those men with guns, Papita, I don't like," 
complained Tony bitterly. " They shoot all 
our birds in the swamp. Once I see long, white 
feathers. They're angel bird feathers, I think, 
only not white — no, all black with swamp 



186 WILD KINDRED OF 

mire. I see plenty and some were red, Papita, 
red with blood. One man, the big one, he 
laugh and say, ' Plenty money for these fine 
plumes/ " 

" What for they get those angel bird feathers, 
Tony ? " asked Papita anxiously. 

" Huh, I hear grand ladies buy white, angel 
feathers, to make them fine," replied Tony. 
" But no one could ever be so beautiful as our 
angel birds." 

" Oh, Tony, what if these bad men shoot our 
angel birds? " and Papita's voice trembled. 

" I know, but wait ; to-morrow we go at 
sunup, quick, to the bird place," spoke Tony. 

As soon as they neared the bird island the 
next morning, they knew some one had broken 
through the jungles, for the vines were torn 
aside and the birds, still disturbed, were circling 
and screaming wildly about the pond. The 
first thing they looked for, was the egrets' 
nest. Perched upon the edge of the nest were 
the baby egrets alone, screaming shrilly, " Kek, 
kek, kek," calling vainly now for their parents, 
and to be fed ; they wanted their breakfast. 

Tony and Papita waited some time, but in 
vain ; the father and mother egret did not come 
back to the nest. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 187 

" They don't come back ever, the big angel 
birds ; but we go and look for them, Papita. 
You see, the little ones are so hungry ; they die 
if we don't feed them." The children paddled 
up and down the swamp, searching everywhere, 
and finally found the old egrets — all that the 
plume hunters had left — just the two, snowy 
bodies, from which the beautiful, long aigrette 
plumes had been roughly torn. 

"Oh, oh, what can we do? The little ones 
wait ; they so hungry," spoke Papita, her eyes 
full of tears. 

" Papita, I tell you what — we, you and I, we 
be father and mother now to these little angel 
birds. We bring the little fish, until they be 
large enough to get for themselves. But first, 
we hide them, these little ones." 

" Oh, yes, yes, so no hunters find them, 
Tony," replied Papita, seizing her paddle ea- 
gerly. 

Back the children went to the cypress tree, 
where the little egrets had been left alone to 
starve, and after much hard work, between them, 
they finally took the birds in the dugout, to the 
little, lonely island, where they placed them in 
an abandoned heron's nest, over which they 
managed to build a rude sort of cage of long 



188 WILD KINDRED OF 

bamboos to keep tbe birds from falling out. 
They had an old fishing net in the boat, and 
succeeded in scooping up enough fish from the 
edges of the pond, to keep the little egrets from 
starving. The little things were so very hungry 
they fed readily, showing no fear, but setting 
up a constant worrying " Kuk, kuk, kuk " for 
more. Finally it was time to go home, but the 
children visited the young egrets each day, faith- 
fully. After feeding them, they would leave a 
supply of fish on the edge of the nest. Soon 
the young egrets had grown accustomed to the 
children, and became so tame, that they would 
allow their heads to be scratched gently by 
Papita. One of the birds, the largest of the 
brood, would perch upon Tony's shoulder some- 
times, to his great joy. This was a very happy 
time for the children, and they never wearied 
watching their pets grow. The bamboo cage 
was finally taken away, and the egrets were 
able to fish for themselves. By early November, 
they were almost full grown and Tony and 
Papita knew that they would not stay upon the 
island much longer, for, already many of the 
other water-fowl had migrated to South America, 
or other warmer climes. 

One night a light frost visited the swamp, and 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 189 

the next morning the children came to the 
island, perhaps for the last time. They saw 
that the egrets were showing much excitement, 
flying back and forth and screaming back to 
each other wildly, circling low over the chil- 
dren's heads, then darting up again, curving 
their long, graceful necks. 

" Look, Papita ! They like to tell us some- 
thing — hear, they try to speak ; they don't hear 
me even when I call ; see." Vainly Tony tried 
to call the egrets to him. Usually, the large 
bird would come to him willingly enough, but 
now, as they watched the big fellow, he began 
to rise straight into the air, mounting ever 
higher and higher, and they could hear him 
calling back for the others to follow. Then, 
with wide-spread wings the others mounted 
into the air, and then they all sailed off to- 
gether to find the warm, safe shelter of another 
retreat, farther south. Tony and Papita, away 
down below them in the swamp, stood hand in 
hand and watched them, until they were lost to 
sight. 

" They are gone from us, Tony," spoke Papita, 
sadly. 

" Yes, sister, but wait ; another year the}' will 
come back to us, I know ; for the birds do al- 



190 WILD KINDRED OF 

ways find the way back again. And think — we 
saved them, those little ones, which was a brave 
thing to do. Now they are beautiful big angel 
birds and their white plumes are safe." 










f,' f " 






E P L>SIIpFFALO 




XIV 

MOGUL, LAST BUFFALO OF THE HEED 

THE great plains lay hot and parched at sun- 
set. Silent and lonely it was, too, for the 
drought of weeks had been so terrific, that even 
the usually sociable little prairie dogs stayed in 
their holes to escape the scorching heat. At 
sunset they were beginning to liven up, and all 
other wild things, which had stayed in the cool 
places were coming out. Between the dried, 
stunted clumps of mesquite trees, and the sage- 
brush patches, certain dark shadows skulked ; 
the coyotes were starting off upon their nightty 
raids. The little prairie chickens had gone to 
roost, but the hooting of the small, brown-barred 
owls, which lived in the earth burrows, had be- 
gun among the sage-brush thickets. 

A coyote, stealing in and out along its trail, 
suddenly squatted upon its lean haunches, rest- 
ing upon the raised dirt of a dog village. From 
this site it peered curiously off, into the distance, 
for its bleary, green eyes saw something moving 

193 



194 WILD KINDRED OF 

against the sky-line. What the coyote saw was 
this : A great, black hulking moving object, was 
stumbling its way westward, following the last, 
golden glow of the sunset, and, as the creature 
watched, it made out another, smaller figure, fol- 
lowing close beside the large one. Then, after 
satisfying its curiosity, the coyote raised its lean 
snout, and howled dismally, from sheer disap- 
pointment, for that which he hoped might be 
game had turned out to be nothing but just an 
old, sick or wounded buffalo, followed by her 
little calf. The sight so disgusted the half- 
starved coyote, that it started in an opposite di- 
rection, on a slinking run, for with all its mean- 
ness it will not pursue another which is 
wounded. 

The huge, mother buffalo stumbled bravely on 
and on ; she was very weak, for she still carried 
an Indian's arrow in her side. How she had 
managed to escape, at all, with her calf was a 
wonder. The herd had stampeded, and some- 
how, after they had gone, she found herself 
wounded, alone with her calf. Lowing to the 
little fellow, she encouraged it to follow her and 
all day they had journeyed over the long, hot 
trail. If she could only manage to find water, 
then she could wallow, and perhaps her stinging 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 195 

wound would heal. Occasionally she stumbled, 
almost breaking her leg as she plunged into the 
hole of some dog village, which her glazing old 
eyes had not seen. 

Suddenly she raised her great, shaggy head, 
and roared out a low cry of triumph ; she had 
scented water. She urged on the weary, totter- 
ing steps of her calf, pushing him on ahead with 
her nose, lowing gently and affectionately, en- 
couraging it to hold out a little longer, for soon 
they would come to the beautiful, longed-for 
water hole. 

They entered a small canyon between two 
notches, and right down in a hollow, a short 
distance off, the little, new moon, flashed a gleam 
across the water. As soon as they had quenched 
their dreadful thirst, the mother dropped down 
heavily among the undergrowth, and the little 
calf, already refreshed, stepped in and out of the 
thickets, cropping contentedly among the tender 
cactus sprouts and arrow weed. Mogul, the calf, 
perhaps wondered, the next morning as the sun 
beat its hot way into the canyon, why his mother 
did not rise, as usual, from her all-night resting 
place, and low, for him to follow her. After a 
time he understood, for such is the keen instinct 
of the wild ; she would never rise again. Thus 



196 WILD KINDKED OF 

did Mogul, the calf buffalo, begin his lonely life. 
His brave mother had just managed to lead him 
into the safe canyon for water, and then had died. 

Mogul was an unusually fine, large calf, for his 
age. He was full of courage and daring, but he 
stayed safe in the canyon, where the forage was 
plenty, and water never failed him, for a long 
while, every day growing bigger and stronger. 
When spring came, and the passes began to grow 
bright with gay-colored flowers, the water holes 
bubbled, and prairie chickens called their " Coos, 
coos, coos " from the thickets ; then Mogul began 
to look about and long for companionship, for he 
was lonely. He noticed the happy frolics of the 
jack-rabbits, with approving, gentle eyes. Con- 
tentedly chewing his cud, he would watch the 
prairie dogs romping happily in and out of the 
doors of their villages. A bark from the watch- 
ing sentinel would sound an alarm note, and, like 
a flash, they would vanish into a hundred holes. 
With the sprouting of his small, sharp black 
horns, came a sudden restlessness to Mogul. He 
remembered the herd, so he determined to leave 
the canyon and find them. 

He had never encountered any real danger in 
his life, as yet, never heard the whine of an 
Indian's arrow, or sighted a painted, brown body 



FUK, FEATHER AND FIN 197 

topped off with painted feathers, astride a loping 
pony. Once on the open plains he would soon 
find out about all these things for himself. 
Through the mouth of the sheltering canyon 
traveled Mogul, so full of courage and life, that 
he gamboled and leaped playfully by the way ; 
he would shake his huge, top-heavy head, and 
rip up great tufts of sage-brush with his sharp 
horns. Occasionally he halted, bellowing 
fiercely and stamping. A yellow, diamond-back 
rattlesnake presumed to coil and rattle at 
him impudently, right in his path. Knowing 
no fear, Mogul charged at it, sending it spinning 
high in the air, then stamping it out beneath his 
shining hoofs. 

The sun baked down mercilessly upon his 
heavy coat, out on the open plain, where there 
was no shelter. Almost, he wished himself back 
in the canyon. Gnats bit right through his 
tough hide ; he swung his great head incessantly 
and angrily, lashing them with his tail ; still 
they clung, biting and stinging his flesh until 
blood flowed. The plains stretched on ahead 
with no companionship in sight. Poor, lonely 
Mogul ! For days he had not tasted water. If 
he could but find a water hole, he would wallow 
and rid himself of the stinging pests. That 



198 WILD KINDRED OF 

night he reached a small, brackish pool of water, 
and dropping into a moist place, Mogul rolled 
about until he had made a fine hole about as 
long and wide as himself. Into this the water 
gradually oozed, and with a snort of joy, Mogul 
rolled his tormented body about, coating him- 
self well with the wet clay which cured the bit- 
ing stings. Early next morning a stray buffalo 
cow came to the pool ; she was young and very 
pleasing, and Mogul's joy seemed complete, for 
he had found company. That night the pair 
caught up with the great herd and joined it. 

Black King, leader of the great herd, had 
never been crossed, but as soon as Mogul ap- 
peared he disapproved of him, because of his 
jealous disposition, for the old leader noticed 
that Mogul was fully as large as himself, and 
even more powerful — a born leader. The Black 
King was growing old ; he feared this stranger 
might become a favorite with the herd, which 
might desert him, as they frequently did, for a 
younger leader. Whenever Mogul met Black 
King, the latter would charge savagely, bellow- 
ing mightily, and throwing up great showers of 
earth with his hoofs and horns, to frighten 
Mogul. Then the eyes of Mogul would sud- 
denly grow red with inner fires, and he would 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 199 

charge wildly at Black King. One day, some- 
what to his surprise, the old leader actually 
backed off and away from Mogul, bellowing 
and calling his followers after him. Thus 
Mogul won a position of respect from the herd, 
a greater part of which took to following his 
leadership, others remaining loyal to Black 
King. 

Grazing near the edge of a rocky canyon 
with a favorite cow and her calf one day, Mogul 
almost met his match in " Ezekiel," as the 
plainsmen had named the great grizzly bear — the 
terror of the Rockies. Ezekiel, full grown, and 
with four young cubs back in a den of the 
mountains, with their mother, was seeking food. 
The young cubs needed fresh meat. Afar off, 
peering over the edges of the canyon, Ezekiel 
had sighted the three grazing figures of the buf- 
faloes. Buffalo calf meat he intended to carry 
back to the waiting cubs. In and out crept the 
shambling figure of the great bear, taking care to 
keep low down among the underbrush, making 
for the site nearest the little calf, which was feed- 
ing somewhat apart from its mother's side. 

With a snort, Mogul raised his heavy head ; 
instantly he sighted the great hulking thing 
which was making its way toward the calf. 



200 WILD KINDRED OF 

With a wild bellow of rage, he charged straight 
for the waving underbrush, and as he came on, 
Ezekiel, the terrible one, rose upon his great 
haunches and boldly faced Mogul, for the 
grizzly is absolute monarch of the plains, fear- 
ing no foe. For a moment Mogul, the fearless, 
was daunted by the sight of the tremendous 
creature facing him. With outstretched paws 
armed with great, razor-like claws, its wide, red 
mouth bared to show its cruel teeth, the bear 
came on with savage, thunder-like growls. It 
was unfortunate, however, that Ezekiel did not 
travel on all fours, for, seeing his advantage, the 
buffalo lowered its shaggy head, lunged straight 
for the unprotected stomach of the bear, and be- 
fore it could even seize him in its terrible grasp, 
he had pinned its great body to earth, pressing 
his sharp horns, and making the bear howl for 
mercy. Then, after goring the bear well, with- 
out waiting to see whether Ezekiel was able to 
get up or not, Mogul bellowed forth a summons ; 
the cow and calf joined him, and they tore off, 
to join the herd. 

One day, as the herd was contentedly grazing 
together, Mogul and his followers upon a small 
plateau, which ended in a high cliff, across 
the plains loped a band of hunting Indians, 




The Buffalo Lowered his Shaggy Head, Lunged Straight 
for the Unprotected Stomach of the Bear. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 201 

Once the herd becomes frightened, it usually 
starts a stampede. One buffalo cow snorted in 
alarm, then the whole herd suddenly lost their 
heads, which was just what the Indians had 
planned. Wheeling about, Mogul led his herd 
straight away from the cliff, off, toward a canyon. 
Alas for Black King ! The Indians were behind 
him, and completely losing his head, he charged 
across the plateau, heading for the cliff. Like 
thunder was the roar of the thousands of hoofs, 
which fairly shook the earth as they madly ran, 
following their leader to certain destruction. 
Roaring, bellowing, raising the dust in clouds, 
they ran. Too late ! When at the very verge 
of the cliff Black King saw their peril, he 
swerved, bravely trying to turn back. Like an 
avalanche the herd rushed upon him, a great 
brown, waving mass of heads and flashing hoofs, 
and over the cliff they fell. When the Indians 
went back to their village they held a festival 
and gave the great " dance of the war shield " 
to celebrate their fine hunt. They had enough 
buffalo meat to feed all the dogs of the village, 
and skins enough to keep the squaws busy cur- 
ing them for many moons. Afterward they 
had a great feast, and there was joy in every 
tepee of the village. 



202 WILD KINDRED OF 

Mogul led his herd for many years, and a 
mighty herd it became, spreading in thousands, 
far across the plain. The mighty thunder of its 
passing might be heard very far off, and the 
dust, when it moved, arose on high until it al- 
most reached the sky. Gradually, but surely, 
the great herd began to diminish and thin out. 
Once a terrific drought killed many of them. 
For days and weeks they journeyed, the vast 
herd, seeking old, well-remembered buffalo 
wallows, over the trails, but when reached 
they were found dried out. The buffalo pawed 
and dug deeply into the arid, salt-caked holes 
for moisture, but none came. They died by 
thousands. Afterward the settlers came across 
stacks of their bleaching bones, lying just 
where they had fallen. So, weakened and hun- 
gry, for the drought had killed off the scant 
herbage, they traveled on, ever westward. Mer- 
ciless Indians drove them farther on, and hunt- 
ers of the plains, who coveted their valuable 
skins, made after them. Finally the great herd, 
all that was left of it, split, as by common con- 
sent, and chose a younger leader for their thin- 
ning ranks. One day Mogul, the king of the 
old herd, found himself deserted, and left to 
wander alone upon the great plains. In vain 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 203 

he tried to follow the herd, but they soon out- 
distanced him, and he came to realize that his 
company was not wanted longer. For many 
years he wandered, always alone, occasionally 
seeing scattered remnants of the great herd, 
but gradually they dropped off, either killed by 
Indians or dying from starvation. Somehow, 
old Mogul managed to escape the wolves, the 
skulking coyotes, the mountain lions and the 
Indians. One day, utterly lonely, he sighted a 
vast herd. At first he thought them buffalo, 
but on coming up with them he saw they were 
long-horned, red cattle, which had now taken 
the place of his lost tribe. Because he longed 
for company, Mogul joined the red cattle, and 
they did not molest him or drive him away. 

Now, out on a reservation, somewhere in the 
West, herding with the long-horned cattle of 
the plains, grazes Mogul, the old buffalo leader. 
His teeth are broken, but he still crops at the 
grass, and when he lifts his head, you may see 
that he has but one horn ; he lost the other in 
a fierce battle for his life with a grizzly. Some- 
times the old buffalo lifts his great, shaggy head, 
and gazes straight out across the broad plains 
with his old, dim eyes and lows deeply and 
longingly, perhaps remembering his lost tribe, 



204 WILD KINDRED OF 

and other days. When the cowboys round up 
the cattle, they often point out to strangers from 
the East, a solitary old buffalo, grazing, usually 
somewhat apart from the cattle, on the edge of 
the herd, and then they say, not without some 
pride, " See that old buffalo out there. He 
was once leader of a well-known, powerful tribe, 
but he is old, just how old we cannot say, and 
he's now the last great buffalo left of a mighty 
herd." 



XV 

THE LAST PANTHER ON CUSHMAN RANGE 

TOM and Ned Manning lived upon a farm, 
in Northern Vermont. The Manning home 
was in a beautiful valley, and all about, as far as 
the eye could see, ranged the Green Mountains ; 
the range which towered over this valley was 
called Cushman. 

The boys were quite elated one day, when 
their father told them he would have to send 
them over the mountain to a far-off lumber 
camp, upon a very important errand. This 
meant a two days' holiday for them, no school, 
and plenty of adventure in the woods. 

" We'll start early," called Tom, to his brother, 
already splitting his next morning's kindlings. 
" And if we have good luck, we can reach camp 
early in the afternoon. Snow-shoeing will be 
dandy, and say, we can just about skee down on 
the crusts, going down." 

" That's so ; it's going to be a bully trip," re- 
plied Ned, " and mother's sure to put us up a 
big feed. Say, somehow mother don't like the 

207 



208 WILD KINDRED OF 

idea of us two going alone over the mountain. 
Guess it's because the Eatons have been losing 
their sheep, and now Strongs have lost a young 
calf. Some think there's something big and 
wild around loose on the mountain somewhere 
— a painter, or something like that." 

" Joe Strong said their calf never strayed 
away/' replied Tom, " but father thinks it did. 
He thinks dogs got the sheep, anyway, and he 
says nowadays there ain't anything big enough 
on the mountains, to carry off such a big crea- 
ture as a calf — hasn't been, for years. Anyhow, 
I ain't a coward. Say, let's ask to take grand- 
father's gun with us," suggested Ned. 

The boys went to bed early that night, so as 
to get started by sunup. The morning was 
keen, cold and sparkly, and the sun shone out 
upon the snow crusts as it came peeping over 
the pointed spruces, on the summit of the moun- 
tain, and made them sparkle as if sprinkled with 
trillions of diamonds. They stowed away the 
ample lunch which their mother had put up, 
and Tom shouldered the old gun, while Ned 
carried the gum pole. They had decided to halt 
at a certain grove of giant spruces, half-way up 
Cushman, which they meant to visit for gum. 
The pole was long enough to reach into a tall 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 209 

tree, and at the end was a sharp knife, just be- 
neath this a small cup, so that when the gum 
was chipped off, instead of falling down and be- 
ing lost beneath, among the pine needles, it 
dropped right into the cup. 

Soon the boys left the steep hilly pastures, the 
foot-hills of the mountains, behind them, and 
began climbing the side of old Cushman. 

" Look ahead, Ned ; we're right in range of 
some dandy old spruces," called back Tom, who 
forged on ahead with the gun. " See, just be- 
yond that ledge, up there, we'll halt and get our 
gum, then we can soon climb up top and have 
our lunch. It won't take us long to go down. 
Come on ; we must have that gum ; it'll be good 
picking." 

" Say, guess that ledge ahead must be Vulture 
Cliff; looks like we're kind of off the main trail. 
We never strike off quite so far east as this, do 
we ? " asked Ned, halting to look up at the great 
black, snow-capped crag, which towered above 
them, jutting far out over the valley. They 
halted just below, and visited some giant spruces 
which, to their joy, yielded such a fine harvest 
of gum, that they hated to leave the grove. 

" We got to be making tracks now, I guess, 
Ned. Come on." 



210 WILD KINDRED OF 

Just then Ned chipped off a splendid lump of 
amber gum from his tree, and still higher up he 
saw several large nuggets clinging temptingly 
to the brown spruce trunk. As prime gum 
would readily fetch a dollar a pound, these Ver- 
mont boys, to whom pocket money was rare, 
were reluctant to leave it behind. 

Tom insisted upon their going on. " We've 
got to go on right off, Ned. But say, we'll come 
up on purpose, some time, when we don't have 
to go over the mountain." 

Soon they were directly beneath the grim 
shadow of Vulture Cliff; it would be a stiff 
climb to go around it, and this they found they 
must do to reach the summit of the mountain. 
They had halted to get breath, a second, when 
Tom spied a queer-looking object lying just be- 
neath the crag upon the snow, and went to in- 
vestigate. 

" What is it? " called down Ned, curiously. 

" Come on down and see ! " shouted back 
Tom, and soon the two boys were staring at 
their find — a great bone, the knuckle joint of a 
cow, having the hoof still attached. The bone 
had been gnawed, but was still fresh. 

" Great Scott ! What do you think of that ? " 
exclaimed Tom, excitedly. " It's surely some 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 211 

young creature's hoof, and whatever was gnaw- 
ing, it surely dropped it down from the ledge 
above, I believe." The boys had sudden mis- 
givings. What could it have been ? 

" Say, Tom, must have been something big, 
and fierce, and hungry, to carry off a big bone 
like that. Perhaps the bone belonged to that 
heifer that was lost," suggested Ned. 

" Might have," commented Tom, taking in 
the situation, which suggested to him the idea 
of getting away from the lonely spot as soon as 
possible. Besides, they discovered that much 
time had already been taken up with their gum- 
ming, more than they had meant to take, and 
now, to their dismay, they discovered suddenly 
that the sun had disappeared ; great clouds were 
swiftly gathering about them, while down be- 
low, in the valley, already the snow whirled 
thickly. A swift storm had arisen, as is often 
the case in these mountains. It had been brood- 
ing, but the boys had not noticed it. Already 
the giant spruces rocked and tossed, far above, 
as the biting wind whined through their tops. 
The boys realized their best plan now was to 
make for the nearest shelter, or they were liable 
to be overtaken by a blizzard on the mountains, 
and so lose their way. Swifter and faster 



212 WILD KINDRED OF 

swirled the snow ; it shut them off completely 
from everything, blinding them and stinging 
their faces like fine needles. Nothing but 
vapor and clouds all about, and they were off 
the main trail. They forged on ahead, climb- 
ing bravely up and up, sliding back at each 
step, but clinging to small spruces to keep from 
slipping. 

" Do you know where we are, Tom ? " called 
Ned, trying to keep up with his larger brother, 
slipping over rocks, plunging down into deep 
gullies and over great fallen spruces. 

" Not sure," called back Tom, above the howl- 
ing gale. " We can't begin to get down the 
mountain, though, to-night. Look ahead ; it's 
almost dark now. I hope we can strike the old 
mountain house, that is, if it ain't blown down. 
We'll try ; come on." This old mountain house 
had originally been built for a cattle shelter, to 
protect the stock which ranged across the clear- 
ings in autumn. A desolate, barn-like struc- 
ture upon the summit of Cushman which the 
fierce storms had done their best to demolish. 

" I see it," called back Tom. " Look ! It's 
right ahead — a big black thing ; it's the moun- 
tain house all right. Brace up ; we got to get 
inside. We're in luck to strike even this crazy 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 213 

old place." The old house, black and forlorn, 
stood there, its windows gone ; through its 
empty casements the winds howled and whined. 
The flooring of loose planks flapped and tipped, 
as the boys stepped inside. There was a rude 
loft, some timbers thrown across beams where 
hay had been stored ; against one side stood a 
rickety ladder. 

" Wish we could start a fire ; I'm blame near 
froze," spoke Ned. 

" No matches, bub, and no fireplace in this 
old shebang, anyhow," replied Tom, regretfully. 
" Tell you what : perhaps we can find some hay, 
left up in the loft and make a bunk ; it would 
keep us warmer than staying down here." 

They climbed up the ladder, and creeping cau- 
tiously over the wabbling beams, upon their 
hands and knees, they collected enough coarse 
hay to make a small bunk, selecting the most 
sheltered corner where the boards were closest. 
Here, snuggling in the hay, they ate their last 
doughnut. The place was dark and still inside ; 
as the storm raged and rattled the old building, 
it seemed as if it would be whirled off the top 
of the mountain at the very next blast. 

" Guess we shan't sleep much up here," com- 
mented Ned, dejectedly. " Gee, I'm hungry ; 



214 WILD KINDKED OF 

wish we hadn't been such pigs and eaten up our 
lunch so soon." 

" Well, we might as well bunk in and try to 
get a few naps ; though if the storm keeps up, I 
don't know how we'll get through in the morn- 
ing," replied Tom. They snuggled down in 
the hay in their bunk upon the precarious scaf- 
folding, being careful not to move about lest 
they might fall below, and at last went to sleep. 
While they slumbered the fierceness of the storm 
abated, the moon came out, and little twinkly, 
cold stars shone in through the roof above them. 

Suddenly, a swift tap, tapping sound beneath, 
on the old flooring awoke the boys. What 
could it be? Then, by the moonlight which 
shone through the windows, they suddenly 
spied a young, buck deer which had leaped into 
the room below and stood panting, head raised, 
listening, watching. 

" Look, Ned ! It's a deer," hissed Tom, spying 
it first. " It's been running ; hear it pant. It's 
afraid. See it stand watching for something. 
Look ! look ! it's going to jump out that back 
window. Something's chasing it. Oh, look, 
look ! " As they peered down, a great cat-like 
figure appeared in the opening of the window, 
crouching there and glaring inside. It was a 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 215 

huge, tawny panther. Its wicked looking head 
was thrust forward, and its eyes shone like living 
coals. The deer, off and away by this time, had 
escaped. Then, to the dismay of the boys, the 
panther sprang lightly down into the room be- 
neath them, and they clung to each other in 
terror, for the next instant the beast had lifted 
its great, flat head, giving a baffled yell of rage 
which shook the old rafters. To their horror, 
instead of chasing the deer, it began to lope 
about the old building, snuffling from side to 
side, finally halting at the foot of the ladder, 
and gazing up curiously at the two trembling 
boys, sighting them, as they crouched together 
on the rickety scaffolding. 

" It's a panther, ain't it?" whispered Ned, 
shakily. " And can't they climb ? " 

" Yep," replied Tom briefly, fussing over the 
old gun. " Say, crawl over to the ladder, Ned, 
and knock it down somehow, can't you, while I 
load the gun. Quick ! Don't be scared. I'll 
fire before you get there." 

" S'pose it climbs up before I get there?" 
hissed Ned, shakily, not liking the job very well. 

" It won't — not if you hurry. Go now, now, 
Ned, quick ! " ordered Tom. 

Meantime, the panther still crouched at the 



216 WILD KINDRED OF 

foot of the ladder, staring up at the boys with 
its wicked yellow eyes, evidently making up its 
mind to climb into the loft. Cautiously Ned 
began to creep over the logs to the ladder. Oh, 
if he could only reach it in time ! Would Tom 
never get the gun loaded and fire? What if the 
beam should slip, and let him down below ? Ned 
lay out flat upon the shaking beam ; he suc- 
ceeded in reaching the top of the ladder, then 
putting all his strength into his arms, he gave it 
a swift shove, and it fell below with a crash. Just 
then, the old gun rang out ; the kick which it 
gave sent Tom sprawling backward into the hay. 
As Tom hoped, he had shot the beast, the panther 
gave another yell. Before the smoke cleared 
Tom missed Ned ; at the same time, he heard a 
faint call. But from where ? Where had Ned 
vanished ? Could it be that he had fallen down 
through the tottling beams, to the floor below 
with the panther? 

" Quick, Tom, help, help ! " called Ned. " I 
can't hold on any longer ; my wrist's hurt." 
Then Tom saw what had really happened. Ned 
had slipped through the timbers and hung down 
below the loft, clinging to a beam with his 
hands. If he let go, he would fall to the floor 
below. So, leaping like a cat over the shaking 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 217 

beams, Torn had soon pulled Ned up onto the 
platform. 

" Gee, that was a close shave, all right," 
grunted Tom, quickly reloading the gun, while 
Ned bade him hurry, for he just knew the 
panther would jump into the loft. " He don't 
have to wait for any ladder to climb up here." 

Right across a wide streak of moonlight crept 
the panther, and then Tom, aiming for its gleam- 
ing eyes, fired the old gun again. 

" Don't miss him this time, Tom," warned 
Ned, tensely, " or he'll get us." 

" Bang ! " The trusty gun rang out once 
more, and the boys distinctly heard the sounds 
of a wild scuffling down upon the old, loose 
flooring below. 

" Guess I fixed him then, 11 said Tom, trium- 
phantly. The panther gave a baffled howl of 
pain and rage, and deciding that the place was 
no spot to tarry in, it leaped out of a window 
and disappeared. 

" You hit him ! I know you did," declared 
Ned, admiringly. 

" Had to ; it was my last shot," replied Tom, 
wiping his damp forehead with his jacket sleeve. 
" And say, Ned, I call it we had a narrow 
escape." 



218 WILD KINDRED OF 

" Think he'll come back ? " asked Ned, rather 
huskily, nursing his wrist. 

" No, not to-night ; he's scared stiff, I think ; 
a good thing, too," grinned Tom. " See, it's 
most daylight ; he won't come back before night, 
I guess." 

The boys climbed stiffly down from the loft. 
To their joy, the snow crusts held up, and they 
soon struck the main trail, reaching camp in 
time for breakfast. When they returned home, 
a lumberman was sent with them, for the story 
of their brave fight with the huge panther had 
excited much interest in camp and they found 
themselves heroes. 

All the remainder of that winter, the farmers 
were troubled for the safety of their stock, as 
soon as they heard there was a panther on the 
mountain. Strangely enough, it never appeared 
again in the valley, and some even doubted that 
the boys had actually seen a full-grown panther. 
The following spring hunters came across the 
dead panther in its lair, just above Vulture Cliff. 
Tom's last shot had put an end to it — the last 
panther ever seen on Cushman Range. 



f AMEEI 
AVED IS GRANDFATHER 




XVI 

HOW AHMEEK SAVED HIS GRANDFATHER 

AT last the thick ice which had covered Otter 
Creek all winter had begun to melt. 
Already " The Moon of Bright Nights," or the 
April moon, had shown itself once — a thin, pale 
sickle, above the snow-capped mountains. Again 
the sleeping wild, furry things had begun to 
awaken from their long winter's nap. The 
muskrats, which lived all along the shallow 
places of the creek, began to hustle about ; full 
of important business they were, seeking out 
places between the crumbling ice, swimming 
down-stream upon errands. Further down the 
creek lay a very large otter village, and further 
on, around a bend of the creek, which quite sep- 
arated them from too inquisitive neighbors, 
lived a colony of beavers. 

All the villages were well planned, because, 
not far off, the stream narrowed, and here, in 
early springtime, in a certain gorge, the fish 
would become so packed on their annual trip to 

221 



222 WILD KINDRED OF 

spawning grounds, that they might readily be 
caught. Here many of the inhabitants all along 
the banks would congregate, while the fish were 
held prisoners, in the gorge, frequently for days. 
Then it was that the melting snows held many 
a strange track, all leading to the grand fishing 
place, for such news travels fast among the 
kindred of the wild. Here Moween,« the little 
black bear, led her young cubs and taught them 
to fish properly. Here also came a quaint-faced 
old racoon and his mate, besides scores of others. 

The main entrance to the beaver lodges was 
well concealed ; it lay beneath the projecting 
roots of a giant black birch, which had fallen 
across the creek, lying half submerged, with its 
roots still clinging to the bank. 

Here, held by the beaver's dam, the waters of 
the creek were black and deep beneath the thick 
ice. Occasionally, an old otter would venture 
down to the beaver village ; then there would be 
a fierce war, and usually the curious otter would 
go back home, beaten. Ordinarily, the furry 
ones kept to themselves. Indeed, the beavers 
were always so busy working, they hardly ever 
took time for anything else, for if they were 
busy, they forgot to be quarrelsome. 

Deep down in the largest, central room of the 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 223 

beaver huts, lived Cha-pa, the old grandfather 
of the tribe, with his mate. The old beavers 
lived alone, for 'tis the custom of the tribe to 
set apart the best spare chamber for the older 
ones. Were not Cha-pa and his wife entitled to 
the best ? For, in addition to being aged, they 
had traveled wide, had founded many homes, 
swimming hundreds of long, weary miles in 
quest of the right spot. Of course, as King and 
Queen they must have the best. 

The beavers had slept through the coldest 
months of the winter, while the snow had 
whirled and drifted above them, and the strong 
ice grew ever thicker, blue as polished steel over 
the creek, while they remained safe and snug 
inside their closed-in huts. Occasionally, they 
would stir about drowsily, gnawing from their 
ample store of saplings, with their strong, spade- 
like yellow teeth. Spring was now waking up. 
Soon the alder and willow buds would burst and 
swell, the twigs were already yellowing, and they 
would be very tender eating to the poor, half- 
starved beavers, for their stored-up saplings were 
dried out by this time. 

The wide, yellow teeth of old Cha-pa, the 
grandfather, were failing him, but the young 
beavers, his grandchildren, were kind to him. 



224 WILD KINDRED OF 

It is a pleasant fact that among the beavers, not 
one will desert or injure an old one, or refuse to 
care for him when his eyes grow dim and his 
teeth become too worn to gnaw his food properly. 
Old Cha-pa was never neglected. It fell to the 
lot of a certain young beaver named Ah meek, 
who was unusually active and lusty, to look after 
his grandfather, king of the tribe. Before the 
beavers became fully awakened, a sad thing hap- 
pened in the chamber of old Cha-pa. His mate, 
weakened by her long fast, and unable to thrive 
upon scanty fare, died. I suspect she could not 
have lived very much longer anyway, for she 
was very, very old. Still Cha-pa was alert 
enough. From his distant chamber he could 
plainly detect the sounds of grinding ice. And 
he knew the creek ice was breaking up ; winter 
was over — time to get out had come. 

Cha-pa always directed the building of dams, 
and now that his old mate had gone, he also 
took upon himself her work — the teaching of 
very young beavers. He showed them the best 
way to gnaw down a sapling, being careful to 
tell them they must dive before the sapling fell, 
or they would be caught beneath. He told them 
how to make cement which would keep out 
water. He taught one very important lesson, 






FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 225 

that when he slapped the water hard, with his 
fiat tail, they must quickly conceal themselves 
in the deepest water, for this is a danger signal. 
He cautioned them that when they dove, they 
must be very careful not to splash too loudly, 
lest the watching enemy mark their disappear- 
ing and follow them. This, Cheokes the mink, 
and also sly Nemox, the fisher, would do, for 
they were as much at home in water as the 
beaver, and for that reason were greatly feared 
by them. You can understand what a very im- 
portant position old Cha-pa held in his tribe. 
No wonder, then, that young Ahmeek looked 
well after his comfort. 

Cha-pa raised his old, gray, whiskered face 
from between his stubby, worn-off claws, rubbed 
his battle-scarred ears drowsily, and peered about 
the shadowy chamber with his dim old eyes. 
He was alone, for it is etiquette in beaver circles 
not to intrude upon the elders unless sum- 
moned. Cha-pa felt very lonely without his 
mate ; but soon becoming thoroughly awake, he 
instantly began to plan work. He heard cer- 
tain lively, playful squeaks and thumpings 
against the walls of his chamber. The young 
beavers were wasting their time in an idle 
frolic; he would hasten and put them all to 



226 WILD KINDRED OF 

work, for no beaver remains idle for long. The 
old leader was lame and his bones ached, so that 
when he began to stir about he was almost 
tempted to curl up and take another little nap. 
A noise outside decided him. It was a " slap, 
slap, slap " out on the creek. Some impudent, 
forward young beaver had gotten ahead of him, 
and was already outside. 

Cha-pa crawled as well as he could to the en- 
trance of the hut, and peering out between the 
roots of the home tree, over the door, he was just 
in time to see a young beaver go sliding glee- 
fully down the muddy bank, turn a complete 
somersault, land in the water and slap it loudly 
with his tail. This young beaver chanced to be 
his grandson, Ahmeek. Cha-pa poked his gray 
snout out and grumbled at him crossly. This 
so upset Ahmeek that he instantly set about 
gnawing off an unusually fine sapling which he 
hastened to bring as a peace offering to his aged 
grandfather. This. Cha-pa fell to gnawing, 
gradually forgetting his rheumatism as he 
tasted the green, tender bark. Then he 
crawled stiffly down the bank, and just in the 
edge of some shallow water he groped and dug, 
clawing out some dark green sprouting leaves, 
which he began to munch eagerly. Mint leaves, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 227 

actually peppermint, which had sprouted. He 
felt strangely renewed after eating the mint, and 
immediately went to work. Plunging off into 
deep water, with a loud slap of his tail, he called 
all the tribe together, for he found plenty to do. 
Everybody worked with a will. Their dam 
had been badly damaged by ice and frost, he 
discovered, so that it had to be almost entirely 
rebuilt. The beavers worked at the new dam day 
and night, and finally it was finished. Then 
old Cha-pa considered that all the workers might 
take a sleep for one night, leaving a sentinel out 
on the dam for the night, to keep watch and call 
them should anything happen. 

But the very night they finished off the dam, 
and were fast asleep, the God of the Storm was 
abroad, and scattered discouragement on every 
hand. For days he walked and whined and 
groaned, and it rained and rained, and the 
waters of the creek turned a dreadful yellow, 
and arose in anger until they had covered over 
the doors of the beaver huts, as well as entered 
the homes of the otters and muskrats. 

Old Cha-pa called together a hasty counsel. 
They met in his great chamber, which happened 
to be safe above the water line. There they sat 
in a wide circle about him, their claws folded 



228 WILD KINDRED OF 

respectfully over their breast, and listened to 
his wise advice. Then the old king ordered 
part of the colony back to work to try and 
strengthen the dam ; others he set to work 
felling trees and raising the huts above water, 
lest the young baby beavers drown in their beds. 
Oh, how they all worked together, night and 
day without rest ! But it was no use whatever, 
for still the cruel waters continued to rise, flow- 
ing over the banks and clear across the mead- 
ows. Many of the beavers were caught and 
drowned by the whirling strength of the water ; 
then, finally, with a crash, down went their 
beautiful dam, and the yellow freshet swept 
over all. 

Everywhere now was the angry, swirling, 
yellow water, far as the eye could see, and worst 
sight of all, many small furry creatures were 
caught by the awful flood. They floated in be- 
tween the rotting ice cakes and whirling logs, a 
sad sight to see. The brave beavers are good 
swimmers, but the heavy tide of the flood 
caught them and whirled them along, although 
they vainly tried to reach the banks of the creek. 
Just as Ahmeek and his mate and old Cha-pa 
were almost on the point of giving up and sink- 
ing, a great, flat cake of drifting ice came floating 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 229 

along, and onto this Ahmeek and his mate 
climbed, and finally succeeded in pulling old 
Cha-pa up beside them. Then they all three 
went floating down-stream on the ice floe. 
Many days they floated, right out in the cur- 
rent of the stream, but finally the ice landed 
close to a little island, and they hastened, as fast 
as their cramped feet would allow, to scramble 
out upon land. Poor old Cha-pa was so weak 
he could barely crawl, but Ahmeek and his 
mate kindly helped him up the bank, pushing 
him in the rear, and encouraging him to crawl 
up. On the island, to their joy, they discovered 
many plants already far advanced. Saplings 
were budding, a bluebird colony had arrived, 
and already Hukweem, the great loon, was build- 
ing her nest, and young owls were occupying a 
tree close by. Then, a little later, others of the 
beaver family who had escaped the flood landed 
at the island, and old Cha-pa, encouraged once 
more, began a new village. The new dam was 
built, and the water, still and deep, formed a 
new pond. By this time Cha-pa thought his 
worst troubles over; he did not know that al- 
ready new cares were brooding for his poor, 
hard-working tribe. 

In spite of all their pleasant neighbors, so near 



230 WILD KINDRED OF 

at hand, the beavers had one of which they did 
not dream, and he had a most unpleasant repu- 
tation. Upon the side of the island nearest the 
forest, not far from the creek, lay a great craggy 
ledge of rocks. Here, in a deep den, which ran 
under the rocks for a long distance, lived crafty 
Pekompf, the wildcat. And because the beavers 
had settled near his lair the crafty one was glad. 
Lying out upon his home ledge, he would watch 
them, hard at work. Then his hateful yellow 
eyes would flash, the tip of his stubby tail would 
lash itself on the rocks, and he would lap his 
greedy chops, and bare his long, cruel fangs. 
Already he seemed to taste young beaver meat. 
What a feast he would enjoy ! He was glad to 
see so many of them. It would be easy enough 
to creep upon them without even wetting his 
mottled fur coat, a thing he dreaded, for no cat 
likes to wet its fur. Pekompf took to sneaking 
down from his ledge, each day creeping a little 
nearer the beavers. One day he actually man- 
aged to catch a foolish young thing who would 
not heed its mother's warning slap on the water. 
Once Ahmeek himself, who was busy felling a 
tree, almost became a victim of crafty Pekompf. 
But Mahug, the loon, gave a warning cry just 
in time, and Ahmeek plunged right off into 



FUft, FEATHER AND FIN 231 

deep water. Finally, the crafty one took to 
watching poor old Grandfather Cha-pa. He 
saw plainly how lame and stiff he was ; he 
would be an easy prey. 

One day Cha-pa came out upon the bank, 
some distance from the entrance of his hut ; 
here he sat down to sun himself. The warm 
rays felt pleasant as they warmed through his 
shabby old coat. All the tribe were at work, 
and Cha-pa failed to see the yellow, skulking 
form of his enemy as it came crawling right 
across the very top log of the dam, slowly but 
surely drawing nearer the old beaver who sat 
back toward him. The old beaver began to 
launder his furry face and comb out his broken 
whiskers carefully. He rubbed his notched ears 
gently. Meantime the mottled figure crouched 
on the top of the dam. Cha-pa saw him not. 
But there was one who did. Ahmeek, working 
under water, soon spied him. Instantly he made 
up his mind to teach the cat a lesson. Diving 
deep down, he began to gnaw and loosen the 
main log of the dam, the pin log, holding the 
entire dam. Tugging and pulling worked 
Ahmeek, the brave. Ah, at last something 
was doing ! Even before the crafty cat knew 
it, the dam went to pieces with a crash, and he 



232 WILD KINDRED OF 

was under water, dragged down by Ahmeek. 
Pekompf could easily have gotten the better of 
him on land— not so in water. He beat, bit and 
scratched, but the long, strong claws of the beaver 
held him. Two quick dabs of his claws, straight 
across the face of the cat, then Ahmeek let him 
go. And blinded and beaten, the cruel one 
crawled back to his dark den. Thus was 
Cha-pa, the grandfather of all the beavers, saved 
by Ahmeek. Old Cha-pa still lives in the tribe, 
although his food must all be prepared for him, 
and he no longer acts as teacher to the young 
beavers. At the head of the tribe now reigns 
Ahmeek, who well deserves the honor. All re- 
spect and obey him as they once did their old 
leader, the aged Cha-pa. 




tie jgmsmm tdiiey 




XVII 

REDBRUSH AND THE THANKSGIVING 
TURKEYS 

WHEN the old mother of Redbrush, the 
young fox, dug out her burrow high 
upon the side of a certain loamy hill, she knew 
exactly why. First, because it happened to be 
easy digging, but principally because it was not 
too far away from the farmyard. When her 
three cubs were half grown, she early found a 
way of telling them this pleasant fact, and they 
soon learned their way to the barn-yard and how 
to follow the scent of prey long distances. 
Among the three young foxes none showed so 
much keenness as did Redbrush, the strong male 
cub. 

Did you ever look into a cat's eyes in the 
dark? Then you may know just how the eyes 
of Redbrush, the cunning one, looked, in the 
darkness. Then they became two glowing, 
golden balls, only that they held in their 
beautiful amber depths something besides gold 
— a certain look of sinister craft. By day the 

235 



236 WILD KINDRED OF 

eyes of Redbrush wore quite a different expres- 
sion. He had a certain cunning, irresistible 
way of turning his head from side to side, like 
a puppy. It was then that the eyes of Red- 
brush deceived one, and were guileless, wonder- 
ing eyes, holding in their depths just a hint of 
mischief, but good fellowship for all. Still, if 
you only knew it, all the crafty slyness of his 
race was behind this appearance of innocence. 

It was November, almost Thanksgiving time. 
The farmer had, what he considered, the finest 
flock of turkeys he had ever raised for the holi- 
day market. There were twenty-six of them — 
beautiful, proud, bronze-feathered birds, and 
one other, the pride of all the farm, a great, 
snow-white Tom turkey, who would never be 
sold, because of his leadership among the flock, 
besides being a perfect pet. 

No wonder then that the farmer was proud of 
his turkeys, for it had been such trouble to 
raise them. Everybody knows that a young 
turkey is just about the most stupid bird, and 
sometimes the farmer lost a whole flock because 
the young birds did not know enough to keep 
from getting their featherless heads wet when 
young. They would actually stand outside in 
a perfect downpour of rain, instead of running 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 237 

for shelter, as the chickens always did. Because 
of their stupidity they would sicken and die — 
sometimes the entire flock. Such are the try- 
ing habits of turkeys. The poor farmer was 
often tormented and tried by them, especially 
when they took a notion to stray off for miles 
into the woods, and when darkness came, in- 
stead of returning home to roost, they would 
climb up into a near-by tree for the night. 
Then some one had to be sent out to search for 
them, and the farmer's boys sometimes tramped 
many weary miles before the flock could be found. 

Thus it happened one particular evening 
they had strayed off, as usual, and darkness 
came upon them when they were far from home. 
Without stopping to think much about it, quite 
bewildered by the sudden darkness, they 
merely uttered a few weak, complaining gob- 
bles and then, led by the big, white turkey, 
they hopped, one after another, up beside him 
on a rail fence. There they perched, balancing, 
jostling each other as they settled, and finally 
huddling together, looking for all the world, 
with the exception of the great white Tom, like 
dark bunches of rags, as there they roosted. 

When Redbrush, the crafty one, left his bur- 
row that night, he started off alone, making his 



238 WILD KINDKED OF 

way carelessly and jauntily along the trail, pad- 
ding along like a shadow, so silently you never 
would dream that a fox had passed by. In 
and out of the bushes he threaded, finally com- 
ing out into a high clearing where he stopped 
to get his bearings. 

The air was keen and frosty, and although the 
moon was big and pale yellow, it was ringed 
about with a storm halo. It would snow before 
long. Redbrush knew this ; also he realized 
that he was fearfully hungry, that his slim red 
sides were quite hollow. If he did not succeed 
in finding a good meal before the great snow- 
storm, he might be forced to fast for days, be- 
cause when it storms and blizzards howl, few 
living things in the way of game are astir. 

Where could he find a meal ? Nothing in 
the way of small animals appeared to be stir- 
ring ; they were almost all curled up warm in 
their winter quarters ; they only ventured out 
when it was sunshiny and warm. 

Redbrush came out upon a great, bare rock 
overhanging the valley, and seating himself, he 
looked plaintively and wistfully up at the moon, 
giving a few short, sharp barks of impatience. 
There seemed to be nothing for him. Oh, but 
there was ! At that moment he saw a small 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 239 

black and white object stealing out and in 
among a pile of loose stones ; then it strolled 
leisurely down the hill. It happened to be Mrs. 
Whitespot, the skunk. Redbrush did not 
greatly wish to encounter her for very good 
reasons of his own ; but he had curiosity enough 
to follow after her ; perhaps she would find 
something to eat, enough for them both. Like 
a shadow Redbrush sneaked after the skunk, 
which, after scattering a covey of partridges, 
huddled beneath a balsam, caught one of them, 
and stole off with it. The flock were now so 
scattered Redbrush did not succeed in getting 
one and he was greatly discouraged. 

Suddenly, right in the midst of his despair, he 
chanced to catch a keen scent. It was game, 
big game, and it was not very far away. Then 
did the eyes of Redbrush, the cunning one, be- 
come sinister. With pointed nose aloft, utter- 
ing soft, whimpering whines of anticipation, 
silently he took the trail. It led him through a 
strip of dense woods, and there on the other 
side, in plain sight, huddled together upon a rail 
fence, perched a great flock of fine, plump 
turkeys, while in the center, where the moon- 
light hit his snowy feathers, sat the great, white 
Tom. Then a terrible tragedy took place. 



240 WILD KINDRED OF 

One after another, all but seven of the turkeys 
were quickly snatched from their perch, even 
before they were quite awake, so silently was it 
all managed. In spite of their flutterings, their 
little timorous, excited gobbles, Redbrush caught 
them, silencing them with just a swift snap of 
his sharp teeth in their slender necks. Then, 
at his leisure, after some consideration, he 
dragged them away, burying them in a certain 
soft, loamy spot. What a treasure-trove had 
Redbrush ! Enough food to last him for weeks, 
for he meant to keep his luck a secret. He had 
small cause to worry about his storehouse being 
disturbed, for among the wild there is a certain 
code of honor about these things. When one of 
them hides food for future use, another, going 
over the trail and discovering it, will seldom 
meddle with it, because, always, the owner puts 
his private mark upon his treasure, and should he 
perchance find it disturbed, leaves it in disdain. 

No doubt Redbrush had intended to get all 
the turkeys, but already dawn was upon him. 
Besides, by this time some of the dull turkeys 
had managed to gather their wits sufficiently to 
get away. Upon their long, stilt-like legs, 
headed by the white Tom, they charged madly 
down the steep hill, filling the air with gobbles 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 241 

of sudden panic and fear, and rushed into the 
barn-yard just as day broke. 

Consternation and dismay prevailed at the 
farm when only the seven turkeys came home. 
Wide search was made for the remainder of the 
flock all day. Red brush had covered up that 
dark night's deeds far too well. The farmer 
knew quite well that a fox had done the work, 
because he had had previous experiences with 
foxes ; he knew their tricks. He made up his 
mind to catch this one. He realized that this 
particular fox must be a very wise one, perhaps 
a leader, and so extremely cunning that his en- 
tire flock of turkeys would be stolen, unless he 
could catch him. 

Of course Redbrush was far too clever to be 
caught in any ordinary manner. This the 
farmer realized, and so he set his wits to work 
and planned a somewhat novel scheme to trap 
Mr. Redbrush. First, the farmer scattered a 
few pieces of cheese over the ground ; that was 
all. Redbrush was not long in finding the 
strong cheese, which he liked. The very next 
time he visited the spot there was more cheese. 
The third time he visited the place, in his ea- 
gerness to feast upon the cheese on the ground, 
he completely lost all caution, and failed to scent 



242 WILD KINDRED OF 

the trap, casting aside all fear. Boldly he leaped 
right into the very center of the cheese-covered 
circle and instantly he was a prisoner. 

When the farmer found Redbrush, he felt 
greatly elated, but -the farmer's boy, who loved 
pets, pleaded so hard to keep the young fox, that 
instead of putting an end to him at once, as he 
had intended doing, they took him home. 
Completely won over was everybody by the 
cunning ways of Redbrush, the crafty one, who 
had such an irresistible way of turning his head 
about, looking so mischievous and winning, one 
could hardly believe him to be the culprit who 
had done away with an entire family of turkeys. 

They made a sort of wooden cage for Red- 
brush, but this he disdained to occupy. He re- 
peatedly dug himself out ; and, as he could not 
break his chain, he contented himself by digging 
a new burrow. Into this he would retire at will, 
and if you were to investigate its depths, there 
you would have found many remarkable things, 
principally chicken bones — bones which had 
never been thrown in to him, but were the re- 
mains of the farmer's fast disappearing flock of 
young chickens. Oh, but Redbrush was crafty ! 

At feeding time he would innocently whine 
and tease for the insipid corn-meal mush. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 243 

When a portion was thrown to him, if no one 
was near, he would proceed to strew it from the 
mouth of his burrow the length of his chain. 
Then, quite humbly, he would retire into his 
burrow, crouching low, only the tips of his 
tawny ears and his golden, half-shut eyes show- 
ing. There he waited the approach of some in- 
nocent chicken. Soon the chicken, attracted 
by the corn-meal mush, would stray that way. 
Then a swift flash of red from the burrow, and 
the amazed chicken was never seen again. Of 
course no one suspected where the chickens 
went, because how could a fox, well chained, 
possibly reach the chickens ? 

Thanksgiving was coming nearer now, and 
each night, all that were left of the turkey 
brood roosted near home upon a fence in the 
barn-yard. The old white gobbler prudently 
perched higher than all the others, and often 
tried to urge the rest to follow him ; but they 
were too stupid to trouble about this. 

One night, when silence had settled about the 
farm, everybody being fast asleep, even the old 
yellow hound, who occupied the woodhouse 
chamber in winter, there appeared strangers, 
moving about in the barn-yard. First, two small 
black-and-white things, which were not the barn 



244 WILD KINDRED OF 

cats. They slipped beneath the chicken house. 
A few muffled peeps and the skunks went off 
with their feast. Next, around the corner of 
the barn, stole a slim, red shadow. It took 
light, graceful bounds over the snow, and after 
circling around the chicken house aimlessly, 
and finding no entrance, it made its way to 
where the foolish turkeys were roosting. It 
gave a leap, another, then another, and at each 
leap seized a fat turkey. Finally, all but the 
old white Tom had become a prey of the red 
shadow ; he had wisely roosted too high. The 
next hour was spent in dragging off the turkeys 
and hiding them safely. Just at the approach 
of dawn, the night's work was finished. 

When the first pale streaks of dawn broke, 
upon a certain bare knoll, there sat none other 
than Redbrush himself, resting. He had actu- 
ally freed himself, broken the chain, which each 
day had been wearing thinner and thinner by 
his restless movements, all unsuspected by the 
farmer. To show that he was still unconquered 
and a fox, he determined to have a great 
Thanksgiving feast of turkey. 

That is why at Thanksgiving time Farmer 
Brown took no fine fat turkeys to market. He 
was thankful, however^ that Redbrush had the 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 245 

courtesy to spare the old, white Tom turkey, for 
that was all that remained for the farmer's own 
dinner. 

Often the yellow hound lies awake nights, 
listening for the stealthy sound of padded foot- 
falls. They belong to Redrush as he prowls 
about the premises. Frequently he hears little, 
short, sharp barks, afar off; then he knows Red- 
brush, the cunning one, is off on a trail. Fre- 
quently, th.e yellow dog whines all through the 
night uttering foolish, futile barks, but no one 
pays the slightest attention to his warning ; they 
only bid him " keep quiet/' But the next 
morning the farmer always finds fresh fox- 
tracks in the snow, and if a fowl or two is re- 
ported missing he remarks sadly : 

" Well, well, that's the smartest, slyest fox I 
ever heard tell of; if I could only catch him 
again, I'll warrant he'd not get away." 

Redbrush, the cunning one, will never be 
caught again. He has had his lesson. On 
moonlight nights you may see him stealing 
forth on his raids. In and out between the 
spruce thickets he swings, quite jauntily, full 
of confidence. Coming out upon the bare knoll, 
he seats himself right there in the open, and 
barks and barks at the round, yellow moon. 




pri 

TIE COASTER 



XVIII 

THE ESCAPE OF KEEBUCKH, THE COASTER 



RIGHT through the very center of the North 
country run the sluggish waters of Otter 
Creek. So deep and black are its waters in cer- 
tain places, that barely a ripple stirs its surface. 
Down in its murky depths live many fish, pike, 
pickerel and others, which have lived there so 
long undisturbed, that they lie motionless, far 
down in the deepest water. Some are said to 
be so old they have actually grown moss upon 
their backs. Only very sharp eyes, peering 
very far down into the water, when the sun 
strikes the creek in the right spot, may catch a 
glimpse of these old fish, great, shadowy forms, 
as they idly wave a fin to keep themselves 
afloat. Above, however, there are younger fry, 
or fish a-plenty ; these are livelier and more 
readily seen. A long time ago, old Keebuckh, 
King of the Otters, and many of his tribe, who 
are all noted fishers, came to this very spot 
where the waters are deep and sluggish. By 

249 



250 WILD KINDRED OF 

peering deep down, his keen eyes detected the 
great fish in the muddy depths, so that is why 
the otters located along its banks. When the 
Indians came, they saw many otter habitations 
and named the waters Keebuckh Creek, or Otter 
Creek. 

For several reasons, old Keebuckh had selected 
this spot, first, because of its seclusion and wild- 
ness. Great mountains towered on all sides, 
crowned to the top with spruces, against which 
the white birches, especially on moonlight 
nights, gleamed like pale ghosts. Here, where 
the mountain was steepest, a great, snowy owl, 
drifting down from far north, built her nest and 
hatched her wild brood each year. At night, 
especially at full of the moon, in February, you 
might hear her lonely call far across the valleys. 

" Waugh, waugh, hoo, ho, ho!" she would 
call, and the lonely mountains would echo the 
cry over and over again. Then old Mahug, the 
loon, would call back fiercely as he plunged into 
the water after a fish, and sometimes another 
would send out a blood-curdling yell from lower 
down. This was Peshoo, the cross old lynx, 
who lived in a ledge upon the mountainside. 

But as for Keebuckh, the otter, he was silent 
enough, and lived in a snug nest which he and 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 251 

his mate had built of dry rushes, and long grasses, 
not far from the bank of the creek. Old 
Keebuckh had investigated this spot well before 
he finally determined to build there. Lying upon 
the banks of the sluggish creek for hours he had 
watched for fish, peering with his sharp eyes 
searchingly beneath the deep waters, and not- 
ing with approval the long, slim shadows, of 
the great fish which lurked beneath, believing 
themselves perfectly safe. Keebuckh knew bet- 
ter, and would show all his little sharp teeth 
in a grin of delight, as he watched the fish, for 
well he knew how he would angle for them. 
He had nothing to learn about fishing, and 
needed neither line, hook nor worm. He would 
simply sneak, with soft, velvet tread, close to the 
water where it was deepest, sometimes crawling 
out upon a half-submerged log. Then, oh, very 
gently, he would drop the tip of his long tail 
into the water, and patiently wait for a curious 
fish to rise and nibble at this novel bait. From 
time to time old Keebuckh would craftily move 
his tail a trifle, quite temptingly, and then, the 
next thing the fish knew, it had been deftly 
landed by the sharp-clawed otter. 

When there was ice upon the creek, Keebuckh 
would break it and fish through the hole, or 



252 WILD KINDRED OF 

plunge beneath into the water, where he was 
equally as much at home as on land. After 
catching his fish, he would bring it out upon the 
bank and devour it. Of all animals who wear 
fur coats and live in the great, cold North coun- 
try, Keebuckh, the otter, perhaps enjoys best the 
winter months ; for him " The Month of Snow 
Shoes," when the snow is deep, and the ice is 
thick, is a time of fun and frolic. It is then 
that his rich, brown fur coat thickens. It really 
is made up of two different kinds of fur. Close 
to his skin grows a very thick, soft fur, almost 
like down, and from this springs an outside 
coat of long, shining coarse hairs. So you see 
Keebuckh was warmly clad for winter, and un- 
like some of the other kindred of the wild, who 
almost starve in a long, cold season, especially, 
when the snow is so deep they cannot forage, 
Keebuckh can always break the ice and fish. 
His feet are webbed, and his broad, flat tail 
makes a splendid rubber ; besides, his legs, 
though short, are very powerful, and so jointed 
that he can turn them about in almost any 
direction. Fierce and savage, too, is Keebuckh, 
when another imposes upon his good nature. 
Then he will bite and fight just as long as he is 
able. It is said that when an otter is very angry 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 253 

the Indians fear his bite, for it is full of deadly 
poison. 

Keebuckh and his mate lived upon the banks 
of the creek happily for many years, before the 
hunters entered their wild country, and began to 
trap every otter upon the creek for the sake of 
their beautiful fur pelts. So also did Peshoo, 
the old lynx, and the great snowy owl, which 
lived above in the tall pine, on the side of the 
mountain. The lynx was a hermit, cross and 
disagreeable. The owl despised him because of 
his snarling ways. She often heard him growl 
and snarl, and hated the sound of his blood-cur- 
dling cries in the night, especially, when there 
were young owlets in the nest. She would often 
come to the door of her home nest and peer 
down at old Peshoo with her great golden eyes, 
sometimes calling to him derisively from her 
safe place, high above him. 

" Waugh, waugh, hoo, ho, ho ! " she would 
call down, hoping to shame him. She never 
did, for Peshoo would bare his cruel teeth at her 
angrily and howl back a reply, while with 
fierce, hungry eyes he would glare up at the 
great, snowy owl, who had been wise enough to 
build her nest in such a tall tree, that he dared 
not climb up and rob her of her children. You 



254 WILD KINDKED OF 

can understand that the owl and lynx were not 
the best of friends. 

When winter actually sets in, up north, it is the 
coldest place you can imagine. Then the snow 
drifts between the mountain passes and whirls 
in blinding drifts, for days together. Everything 
that can, seeks a snug place to crawl into, and 
they are generally wise enough to sleep there 
until the storm is over. To stir outside during 
the fierce blizzard would mean death to most of 
them. At last the pale sun shines wanly forth ; 
then the things of fur and feathers, which do not 
actually hibernate begin to stir about, for they 
usually wake up and discover how very, very 
hungry they are. 

There had been a long, heavy snow-storm ; for 
many days Peshoo, the old hermit lynx, had lain 
in his den beneath the rocks, asleep. Finally, 
he realized that the storm whined no longer out- 
side his door, and also he knew that he was 
dreadfully hungry. In fact, his gray sides were 
so hollow that his ribs showed plainly ; his red 
eyes gleamed, holding a starved, baffled look, 
as he poked his snout forth from the rocks, 
peering sullenly forth over the snow-covered 
land. He searched with his eyes everywhere to 
discover something stirring — a rabbit, a par- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 255 



tridge, anything, for Peshoo could not remem- 
ber when he had had his last meal, it was so 
long ago. A rush of snowy feathers above him, 
and Peshoo saw the great, snowy owl coming 
back to her nest with something in her talons. 
As usual, she had got ahead of him ; he envied 
her greatly, and just out of spite he raised his 
snout and howled at her dismally, because of his 
hunger. 

Because Peshoo was of the cat tribe, he hated 
the snow ; it meant wetting his fur, which he 
avoided when possible. He realized that game 
would never come to him, so he determined to 
lose no time in starting off. Sometimes the 
lynx makes a very ludicrous figure when he 
travels, and you would have laughed to see 
Peshoo start forth, arching his back into a bunch, 
and gathering all his feet together beneath him, 
as he began to take long, flying leaps through 
the snow, looking so comical that even the 
snowy owl hooted with glee as she watched him 
go humping himself off over the snow. 

As soon as the sun had appeared that day, out 
came the otters ; they had not minded the awful 
cold at all, for they loved the snow and thick, 
steel-blue ice, and had been up and stirring for 
hours. First of all, they had caught and de- 



256 WILD KINDRED OF 

voured a great meal of fish, and now Keebuckh 
and his mate were having such fan — a regular 
frolic — because they were so happy together, 
and loved the snow. Besides, Keebuckh loved 
to coast and slide upon snow and ice quite as 
well as any boy or girl. Otters are natural 
born coasters, and have been all their lives. 
Often they will, when traveling over a snowy 
expanse, stop and lie down upon their stomachs, 
and slide for the fun of it. As for Keebuckh, he 
needed no "flexible flyer." He would scramble 
to the top of the steep bank near his home, which 
sloped right down to the icy creek, then, without 
waiting for anybody to give him a push from 
behind, would squat down and slide from top to 
bottom of the bank, out upon the ice. At first, 
his mate watched him, then, when Keebuckh 
had made the slide fine and slippery, unable to 
resist the fun, with a squeak of joy she climbed 
up the bank and coasted down behind him. 
For hours they coasted thus ; fast and furious 
grew their fun ; it seemed as if they would never 
weary of it. Soon, other otters along the bank 
joined them, and the slide was smooth as glass 
from the passing of their fur-covered bodies. 
Sometimes they would slide too far, and take a 
header into the waters of the creek, through the 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 257 

fishing hole, which they had made in the ice, 
but they didn't mind that. 

Now Peshoo, the lynx, although half starved, 
and expert enough as a hunter, had not been 
very successful in his hunting, that day. A fine, 
fat rabbit had escaped him, even a chipmunk — 
small fare, which he usually scorned — had man- 
aged to slip through his claws, and so Peshoo, 
just because he began to pity himself, whim- 
pered like a child, from sheer disappointment. 
Where could he find food? He began to watch 
for tracks upon the snow. He saw where Red- 
brush had passed, traveling fleetly, with long, 
flying leaps. On wandered Peshoo through the 
spruce bush, in and out, spying a little chain of 
tracks etched lightly upon the snow. These 
belonged to a bloodthirsty, old weasel, whom 
Peshoo did not care to meet, for, although he 
was larger than the weasel, he feared him. 
Once a weasel had come to his den, entering it 
when he and his mate were asleep, and drunk 
the blood of his mate, after the cruel method of 
the weasel tribe. 

No, Peshoo would not track a weasel. He 
turned right about, away from the small chain- 
like track of the weasel, striking in another di- 
rection, toward the creek this time. Before he 



258 WILD KINDRED OF 

reached the creek he saw another track — a pe- 
culiar one. Instantly Peshoo recognized it as 
that of Keebuckh, because, upon the sole of the 
foot of the otter, grows a sort of cushion, which 
leaves a kind of seal or impression in the snow, 
wherever it walks. Peshoo began to follow the 
new tracks warily, and before long he came to 
the creek, where, hiding himself behind a spruce 
bush, he watched curiously the sight before him 
— a whole tribe of otters coasting together down 
the slide which Keebuckh had made for them. 
One after another they would slide down as fast 
as they could go. Such fun as they were hav- 
ing ! Peshoo could hear their squeaks of de- 
light. 

All this time Peshoo was laying plans to out- 
wit the otters, studying, behind his broad, flat- 
tened head, how he might trap a fat, young one. 
Finally his plans were made. By going a long 
distance around, he might reach the top of the 
slide, and from there, by crouching behind a 
convenient bush, he hoped to be able to spring 
out upon one of the innocent coasters. Peshoo 
licked his lean chops in anticipation, as he 
sneaked off. 

A sizable group of otters were waiting at the 
top of the bank. Watching his chance, Peshoo 



iiil!il!lll!!'f | l|lll' i l , i;!l!!]l| 




<-.-?VSVl.>y«,> 



One After Another They Would Slide Down as Fast as 
They Could Go. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 259 

finally realized the time to leap had come. He 
gathered himself for a spring, but just at that 
moment a sharp bit of snow crust cracked be- 
neath his foot. This the younger otters did not 
hear. Old Keebuckh, the king of the tribe, had 
keen ears ; he heard the snow crack, moreover, 
he saw a spruce bough shake mysteriously. In- 
stantly he gave a short, sharp cry ; this was an 
alarm. Without waiting to see for themselves 
what it all meant, blindly trusting their leader, 
like a flash, every otter coasted madly down the 
icy slide, out across the ice-covered creek, dis- 
appearing like lightning beneath the water. 
They were out of sight before Peshoo, the lynx, 
had fairly gathered himself together for a jump. 
Once having made ready to leap, Peshoo reached 
the top of the slide and could not stop himself 
very well. Peshoo was not fond of coasting, so 
head over heels he went, whirling and snarling 
and sliding, terrified and dizzy, beating the air 
with his feet, finally landing upon the hard ice 
with a terrible whack, right upon his ugly skull. 
Across the creek, upon a convenient pine tree, 
in plain sight, sat his neighbor the great, snowy 
owl. When she saw the funny appearance 
which old Peshoo made, sliding down the bank, 
she fairly chuckled to hear the old hermit's 



260 WILD KINDRED OF 

howls of baffled rage. To show him that she 
was glad to see the otters make their escape, she 
called down to Peshoo jeeringiy : 
" Waugh, waugh, ho, ho, ho ! " 




JfflSifllG SATO 
I 



XIX 

HOW MES. GREEN-FROG SAVED 
HER FAMILY 

MRS. GREEN-FROG sat perched comfortably 
upon a grass tussock, on the banks of the 
home pond, blinking, blinking her green goggle 
eyes, and snatching an occasional gnat. The 
pussy-willows were out, and the bluebirds sang 
joyously near by. Often Mrs. Green-Frog would 
scramble hastily to the very edge of the grass 
tussock and peer anxiously down into the 
muddy water at her large family ; fifty or more 
children she had, little black polliwogs, who 
looked like nothing else in the world so much 
as large-headed black tacks, as they frolicked 
about merrily in the water. 

In spite of Mrs. Green-Frog's somewhat in- 
different manner, she had, I'm sure, a real 
motherly affection for her offspring. Occasion- 
ally she would croak a deep, reassuring " ker- 
chung " to them, and then they would all 
wriggle about more frantically than before. 

263 



264 WILD KINDRED OF 

Suddenly the bulging eyes of the mother frog 
became fixed upon a certain suspicious spot far 
under the bank, and she began to watch the 
movements of a long shadowy form which 
darted stealthily through the water. Surely, 
it was never one of the clumsy turtle family ; 
no, of course not. The next minute she learned 
just what it was, for, with one insolent swish of 
its tail and wide* open jaws, a sly old pickerel 
came swimming leisurely down-stream. 

This old pickerel was very cruel and crafty, 
and always hungry. He would swim down the 
pond, his great yawning mouth, armed with 
many teeth, clashing together, ready to gobble 
down anything which happened in his way. 
Usually whole droves of minnows and the 
" lucky bug " family darted on ahead, thus 
giving ample warning of his approach. 

Even as Mrs. Green-Frog watched, a whole 
shoal of hurrying minnows sped past her like 
arrows ; then Mrs. Spotted-Turtle and all her 
little ones scrambled frantically up out of the 
water, for, in spite of their thick shells, the old 
pickerel had a mean way of nipping off legs and 
tails, in passing. 

On came the pickerel, his round goggle eyes 
glaring horribly, and then, even as Mrs. Green- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 265 

Frog watched from the tussock, the old pickerel 
changed his course, and swimming right into 
the wriggling polliwog family, with just one 
wide yawn of his jaws he had swallowed nearly 
half of them. 

Uttering an indignant " kerchung," Mrs. 
Green-Frog leaped high into the water, and with 
little croaks she managed to hustle the re- 
mainder of the polliwogs beneath a certain mud 
bank out of sight. Again the old pickerel 
turned about his long gray body, backing water, 
fanning with his gills, swimming back over the 
course ; but his jaws closed upon emptiness, so 
he swam lazily back again to his den among the 
matted water-weeds. 

Fortunately, the little polliwogs had had sense 
enough to hide themselves in a thick bunch of 
watercress, and Mrs. Green-Frog was very glad 
when the old pickerel swam away. 

Dearly Mrs. Green-Frog loved her home pond, 
covered over with great, cool lily pads on which 
floated white, fragrant lilies, besides the sturdy 
yellow kind, whose golden cups were perfect traps 
for quantities of jeweled insects and flies. Soon 
the little polliwogs reached the tadpole days, and 
stayed closer to their mother, or began to climb 
up the stems of pale green rushes. It was then 



MS WILD KINDRED OF 

that their mother commenced to teach them the 
lessons of the waterways. How to detect the 
gray shadow of a hawk and spy him out even 
before he saw them ; how to keep away from the 
old pickerel. As soon as their little side feet 
were formed, they would follow their mother's 
example and vault lightly upon the grass tus- 
socks to safety, croaking in their thin high 
voices at the enemy as he cocked his impudent 
goggle eyes longingly up at them from the deep 
water. 

Everything might have gone on very happily 
with the frogs, had not a most terrific drought 
visited the frog pond. It had not rained for 
weeks and weeks, the scorching, summer sun 
beat down over the land, and the pond was dry- 
ing up very rapidly. 

Soon shoals of silvery minnows and beautiful 
speckled trout lay gasping, some of them al- 
ready dead, among the dried-out pebbles at the 
bottom of the pond. Mrs. Green-Frog realized 
that she must move her family, and that very 
soon. Already the grass tussocks stood up high 
and dry and there was very little moisture to be 
had, even by grubbing down among the water- 
weeds ; soon they would all perish. 

Out into the dry, wire-like grass they all 



FUK, FEATHER AND FIN 267 

hopped, following their mother, for somehow 
the frog mother knew that far away, somewhere 
over beyond the distant hills lay a never-failing 
pond. 

Over hot, sun-baked pastures Mrs. Green-Frog 
led the young frogs ; often big black snakes lay 
right in their paths, while overhead the gray 
hawks whistled shrilly, following the frog family 
like evil shadows. Once or twice, in spite of 
warnings to jump, the gray wings swooped low, 
and a young frog was quickly snapped up. All 
day they hopped, the frog family, resting 
through the extreme heat of the day beneath 
broad leaves, or in sheltered places, traveling on 
at night. Would they ever arrive at the pond, 
and would the kind rain never, never fall again 
upon their parched backs? On the road they 
were often joined by other migrating frog colo- 
nies. An old bullfrog leader gave them fresh 
courage ; he had scented moisture in the air ; 
surely water was not so very far away. In spite 
of this encouragement, hundreds of the great 
frog army died by the wayside. Gasping, the 
band dozed weakly and miserably all together 
one day, too scorched and weary to go further. 
Even Mrs. Green-Frog herself was filled with 
misery. Then " splash ! " something fell upon a 



268 WILD KINDEED OF 

great broad leaf overhead, and instantly every 
frog in the army was wide awake enough. It 
had come, the rain, the gentle, soothing rain, 
just as Mrs. Green-Frog herself always knew it 
would come some time, for it always does, you 
know. 

" Kerchung, kerchung," they all croaked 
happily, letting the cool rain trickle down their 
parched, wide-open throats. " The rain, the 
beautiful, moist rain has come." 

" Zoom ! Zoom ! " bellowed the old bullfrog 
leader, hoarsely, as the rain pelted his parched, 
green back, opening his mouth to drink his 
fill of the warm rain-drops. Suddenly roused 
into quick action, out into the slanting rain 
hopped all the frogs together, following their 
leader. Taking great frantic leaps, almost los- 
ing their heads in their excitement, uttering joy- 
ous croaks as they hopped, they had scented the 
pond. At last they came within sight of its 
welcome banks ; then such a scurrying and jos- 
tling took place ; pell-mell, in they plunged, the 
big frogs tumbling over the little fellows in their 
eagerness to touch water first. Then they all 
dove down into the depths of the pond, into 
the soft ooze and mud and water-weeds. 

That night, when dark rain-clouds hid the 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 269 

moon, and fresh, moist winds blew among the 
cat-tails along the edges of the pond, from every 
grass tussock standing in the marshes, from 
every lily pad upon the pond, and among the 
rank skunk cabbages, there arose a mighty con- 
cert, beginning with little piping, trilly sounds. 
" Tr-r-r-r-r, Tr-r-r-r " — ending with a series 
of " kerchungs " from the middle-sized frogs ; 
then from the center of the bog-lands bellowed 
out the giant bullfrogs with their bass notes. 
" Zoom, zoom, zoom," like the deep tones of a 
bass viol. Such a concert as the frogs did give 
that night, and as the village people paused to 
listen they said to one another : 

" Listen ! Just hear the frogs singing ; surely 
they are singing unusually loud to-night. They 
are prophesying rain. The long, cruel drought 
is ended ; of this you may be sure, when the 
frogs sing that way ; they know it, and are glad." 

Of course the frogs knew all about it, and 
they were just brimming over with happiness 
and contentment. Best of all, Mrs. Green-Frog 
herself uttered little happy trills, because she 
knew her family were saved. 



XX 

THE ADVENTURE OF TOMMY SILYERSIDES 

THE winter was long, and all the little wild 
wood people which lived down deep in 
snug, warm nests in the trunk of some tree, or 
under the banks of the brook, were drowsy and 
inactive. Even the little brook itself had " built 
it a roof, 'neath which it could hide it, winter- 
proof." So the brook roof of ice muffled its 
usual free, joyous bubbling sounds, and they too 
sounded sleepy and quiet. To be sure, in some 
places the brook absolutely refused to keep quiet, 
and dashed itself freely over its pebbles. 

The winter had been so bitterly cold for all the 
little wild, furry things, that the Gray Squirrel 
family and old Mrs. Muskrat and her small 
children had actually suffered at times. Espe- 
cially when the great white blizzards came 
howling and whirling about them, shutting 
them up tight in their homes for days, filling 
their doorways, and burying everything under 
a blanket of snow. Then it happened, very un- 

273 



274 WILD KINDEED OF 

fortunately, that the food supply began to give 
out ; frequently there would be barely enough 
to go around, because both squirrel and muskrat 
families were large and growing, and like 
healthy boys and girls they needed plenty to 
eat. To tell the truth, in the squirrel family 
the children themselves had been much to 
blame for this. 

Patient Mrs. Silversides, the mother squirrel, 
had tried all the autumn to make the little ones 
help gather the winter's store of nuts. But you 
see the fine autumn days were always so pleas- 
ant, such hazy, lazy sort of weather ; and then 
the spell of the Indian Summer went to their 
small heads and the young squirrels just hated 
work. 

So at the season when they might have helped 
out preparing for the hard winter, instead, they 
just scampered and romped about all day long 
with no thought of hungry days coming. 

Early and late their parents toiled, carrying 
nuts from a hickory tree, far off in a distant 
pasture, back to their storehouse in the home 
tree. It was slow, tedious work, because all 
they could possibly carry in one trip were just 
three nuts, one in each side of their cheeks, and 
another right between their sharp front teeth. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 275 

So long and hard did the old squirrels labor 
that at last their sleek, silver sides began to 
grow lean, and fairly hung in wrinkles, while 
their eyes sometimes looked strained and anx- 
ious, fairly seeming to bulge from their heads. 

Winter was just about half over and in spite 
of the patient efforts of the parent squirrels the 
supply of nuts was nearly gone ; they would 
last but a week or so longer, even if they ate 
very sparingly. True, down below the last 
layer of nuts, Mrs. Silversides remembered stor- 
ing a few maple keys, but everybody knows 
there is really very little nourishment to be 
found in the tiny kernel of a maple key. 

Sometimes, when the winter had been an open 
one, the squirrels were able to find certain roots 
which did very well in place of nuts. If the 
roots were frozen in, then they would dig away 
the light snow and occasionally find some of 
last year's nuts under the brown, dead leaves. 
But not this winter, because everything was 
frozen down hard and tight. The few nuts 
which the squirrels dug out from beneath the* 
snow were mildewed, black, and rancid. 

In the muskrat family the situation was 
almost as bad. To be sure, their food was of a 
somewhat different nature, yet there was not 



276 WILD KINDRED OF 

much to be found, because the frost line was 
very deep that winter. So the Silversides family 
often heard angry chatterings, and choruses of 
complaining squeaks from a hole in the bank 
just beneath the roots of the white birch, where 
the muskrats lived. What were they all to do ? 
It would be weeks and weeks before the warm 
spring days came, and still snow and ice covered 
everything with its cold mantle. Oh, if only a 
warm thaw would come ! In that case, then 
they might hope to find a few early succulent 
buds, dried berries or wild cherry pits. 

Patiently did their old mother gather about 
her the little hungry, complaining squirrels in 
their warm dry leaf-lined nest. She tried hard 
to still their impatient whimperings and chatter- 
ings, and in her own squirrel way told about the 
beautiful springtime already on its way. Then 
once again their beautiful hackmatack home 
tree would push out fresh, tender plumes, and 
the dear woods, now barren and bleak, would be 
filled with blossoming things ; food would be 
everywhere. She even promised them little ex- 
cursions to a certain fascinating spot called " The 
Falls," far above the brook, a spot which the 
young squirrels had never seen. 

The very thought of all this caused the Silver- 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 277 

sides family to " ch-r-r-r, ch-r-r-r " excitedly 
together, almost forgetting their keen hunger 
and the whining of the blizzard just outside their 
door. 

Things began to grow more serious still for the 
Silversides, and soon there came a time when 
the old squirrels were obliged to take longer 
and wider journeys into strange forests far away, 
searching for food. Sometimes, indeed, they 
would not return until the shadows, blue and 
cold, fell in the woods, and the sun had set ; 
even then, although spent and weary, they only 
brought back a few oil-soaked, rancid nuts. 

When the little squirrels were left alone, they 
would lie quite contentedly, tucked warmly 
down in the leaves, as their mother wished them 
to do. Once, however, their hunger became so 
keen that they grew impatient when their parents 
failed to return. Out into the frosty air they 
thrust their inquisitive pink noses, and finally 
ended by all coming boldly outside. There they 
sat chattering and complaining upon a limb of the 
hackmatack tree. The winds were cold and bit- 
ing and in a near-by sycamore tree a moaning, 
ominous sound came to them every time the 
wind swept over it, sending the few great brown 
leaves which clung to its mottled limbs clashing 



278 WILD KINDRED OF 

together. It made a weird noise, which so filled 
the small, timorous squirrels with panic, they 
went scampering back into the nest again. 

One day when the squirrels had been alone a 
long time, Tommy Silversides, the largest of the 
three squirrels, made up his mind to go off on 
his own account to hunt for food. Tommy had 
an exquisite fur coat which was not too loose for 
him because of leanness. This is the reason : 
Tommy, the greedy one, had a way of looking 
out for his own needs, often grabbing the choicest 
morsels, and bolting them, when the old squirrels 
turned their heads. He ran boldly from limb to 
limb and was soon scratching his way to the 
bank of the brook, leaving his terrified brothers 
peeking down at him over a limb, scolding and 
begging him to return. 

Tommy paid no heed to them ; instead, he 
took little flying leaps down to the brook, then 
creeping out upon the ice, he drank his fill of 
the clear water and felt very much stronger and 
bolder than before. 

He saw with delight that a few of the " lucky 
bug " family had thawed out and were darting 
about upon a black patch of water. Surely, if 
they had thawed out, then Tommy felt certain 
springtime would soon be there. He began to 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 279 

take little skipping exercises, whisking his 
plumy tail quite impudently, wheeling madly 
about, " chr-r-r-ring " to himself and wishing 
greatly for company. Just then who should 
come along but Billy Muskrat, one of the 
muskrat children with whom he was upon 
neighborly terms. Billy Muskrat was a bold, 
fearless fellow, and Mother Squirrel often begged 
her youngsters not to be too familiar with him, 
because the muskrat children were said to be 
very disobedient and reckless. 

Of course Tommy Silversides was far too ex- 
cited to remember about this, so he hurried to 
join Billy Muskrat, who jumped about upon the 
ice, which clattered exactly like jingling glass, 
wherever his little black feet broke through. 
The muskrat did not mind if the ice did break 
through and give him a wetting, for he was just 
as much at home in the water as upon dry land, 
and could remain under a long, long time, only 
needing to come up occasionally for air. 

" Dear me," began Tommy Silversides in the 
wood language, which all the wild understand 
quite well. " How I do wish spring would 
hurry up and get here. How do you manage 
to find things to eat in this bitter winter 
weather ? " 



280 WILD KINDRED OF 

"Oh, easily enough/' replied the muskrat 
jauntily; "just look and see how sleek and fat 
I am. I don't have to bother my parents to 
work and slave for me, hunting food all day, 
because I just go out and find it for myself," he 
bragged. " Besides, my old mother has rheu- 
matism and father muskrat was caught in a 
trap, we think. At any rate, we haven't seen 
him for many months. I think you squirrels 
are tied to your mother's apron strings far too 
much. Why don't you go about freely as I do ? 
My, but you're a sad coward, I'm afraid," he re- 
marked disdainfully. 

All this kind of bold talk was quite new to 
Tommy Silversides. He had never been called 
a coward before ; surely his companion was both 
brave and wise to hunt for himself and not 
trouble his old mother. Tommy asked him 
next about " The Falls." Did he know of any 
such spot? 

" He, he, ho, ho ! " squeaked the muskrat de- 
risively. " I just have to laugh, to think you've 
never visited the wonderful falls. I go there 
every day quite alone. I have such fun swim- 
ming about, jumping off a log into the water 
again and again. Oh, the music of the falls is 
pleasant, I can tell you." 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 281 

" And is there a beautiful beechnut tree close 
by ? " questioned Tommy, eagerly. 

" Well, I should say there was ; and jolly 
full of nuts it is too, so sweet and milky, 
especially when they're young and green. The 
husks are quirly and fluty, and when you 
strip them off, why, there are the fine, milky 
kernels." 

Just then old Mrs. Muskrat stuck her gray 
whiskered snout forth from the bank and called 
crossly for Billy to come home. To the surprise 
of Tommy Silversides, instead of obeying her, 
he turned his head back saucily over one furry 
shoulder and chattering loudly to his mother, 
scurried off in an opposite direction as fast as 
he could go. 

It was bitterly cold, and growing more so 
every minute. The thought of the beechnuts, 
however, which the muskrat had told about, 
was entirely too much for poor, half-starved 
Tommy Silversides, so he made up his mind he 
would find the nuts. When he came out from 
the shelter of the thick pine woods, the sharp, 
keen winds struck him, ruffling his gray fur, 
and nipping his tender pink flesh beneath it. 
He hurried on all the faster trying to keep 
warm. Finally far ahead he imagined he heard 



282 WILD KINDRED OF 

the rushing, musical roar of the falls. On he 
scampered, filled with fresh courage. 

At last, very weary he almost made up his 
mind to turn back home, when the very next 
moment, at a sudden turn of the brook he came 
right out to the wonderful falls. 

He found the log which the muskrat told of, 
and finally came to the beechnut tree. Up and 
down its brown trunk he ran, searching every- 
where for the green, milky nuts. Only brown, 
rattling, empty husks could he find. No nuts 
were left. Completely discouraged at this, he 
just lay out flat upon a branch, panting and 
resting. As he lay thus, he heard the sound of 
quick scampering feet upon the log below. It 
was none other than Billy Muskrat himself, 
busy over some object just beyond the log, 
scratching and digging eagerly. 

Ah, thought the squirrel, Billy Muskrat has 
found something good to eat. Suddenly the 
muskrat gave a shrill squeak of such terror and 
pain that Tommy Silversides was quite fright- 
ened. Then the muskrat lay quite still ; he had 
been caught in a trap. The squirrel had heard 
the warning of terror which the muskrat had 
sounded, and without waiting he bolted away as 
fast as he could run. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 283 

Twilight had come when Tommy Silversides 
arrived at the hackmatack tree, and without a 
chatter of explanation to anybody, he slid right 
down into the nest, cuddling close to the other 
Silversides. 

Soon the happy spring days came ; the pussy 
willows again put forth their gray, furry sprouts, 
and the bluebirds arrived from the South. Once 
more the beechnuts unfurled their curly green 
husks ; then there was food in plenty for all 
the wood people. How the Silversides family 
romped and played all day long, chasing each 
other up and down the trunk of their hackma- 
tack tree, the happiest family in the deep 
woods. 



XXI 

SPECKLY OF THE WATERWAYS 

THERE were four in the trout family. 
Father and Mother Trout, little Speckly 
and his brother Spot, and they all began life 
together in a certain little mountain brook, far 
up in spruce-land. Mountain brooks are by far 
the most fascinating streams in the world ; they 
are not the calm, still sort, but just bubbly and 
dancing all along the way. 

The trout dearly loved the home pool, which 
lay just beneath a foamy little waterfall, and as 
the two young trout grew older and stronger, 
they often frolicked and played together beneath 
the foamy falls, trying a sort of leaping game, 
to see if they were able to jump out of the pool 
into the falls above. One memorable day, 
through long practice, they were really able to 
do this, and found themselves in quite a new 
spot, full of unexplored, shadowy places, over- 
hung with dark pines, which dipped low their 
fragrant tips into the clear water. All along- 
shore were great rocks covered with gray and 

287 



288 WILD KINDRED OF 

red lichens, and cushioned with deep, green, 
velvety moss. 

In high glee, Speckly and Spot darted about 
the new pool, leaping high out of the water, 
playing tag with one another. At last Speckly 
became weary of the new pool, and thought he 
would go home. Leaping high, flirting a sil- 
very shower of water drops, back he dived right 
over the waterfall again. 

Spot, who loved adventure, was only too con- 
tent to remain behind. He swam about, rub- 
bing his nose inquisitively against each unfa- 
miliar stone, fanning the water with his red gills, 
resolving that it would be a long time before he 
returned to the home pool again, the novelty 
of the new place so charmed him. Besides, the 
place simply teemed with insects. Over in one 
corner, at the foot of some strange, brown water- 
weeds, he spied a whole drove of little, hard- 
shelled water-bugs, while here and there darted 
many a water-spider. Then there were lily 
roots. At the base of these, down in the oozy 
mud, he knew well enough there would be pink 
earthworms for the taking. Although it was 
early spring, once he saw a blue dragon-fly dip 
its lacy wings in the pool ; already it was finding 
young gnats. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 289 

The water was very cold and clear, for the 
thin March ice had barely left it ; in fact, very 
early in the morning before sunup, all about 
the edges of the brook long, lance-like shoots 
of thin white ice pushed out from the banks, 
only to be melted away when the sun came out. 
So Spot deserted his family and remained in the 
upper pool. He soon discovered that he had 
neighbors near by, and made the acquaintance 
of an old brown water-rat which used to peer 
at him rather curiously from between the 
tangled roots of a tree close to the water. Back, 
quite beneath the bank, lived a giant and very 
disagreeable pickerel. He would glide across 
the pool like a shadow, opening and shutting 
his cruel jaws, armed with many sharp teeth, 
devouring whole shoals of little minnows at one 
bite. Spot soon learned to dodge the pickerel 
and take care of himself. 

Finally the ice films left the banks, and all 
about in the air insect life began to stir, while 
back in the thickets of brown ferns and under- 
brush certain dwellers of the fur tribes were wak- 
ing up from their winter sleep. Besides, there 
were other things stirring about in the woods, of 
whom Spot and other dwellers along the water- 
ways knew nothing. 



290 WILD KINDKED OF 

Idly paddling about near the surface of the 
pool, keeping himself afloat and dozing, but 
with wide-open eyes in the water, which the sun 
warmed comfortably, lay Spot. Out of one eye 
he watched for stray insects. A colony of gos- 
samer-winged gnats hovered over the water in a 
most tantalizing fashion ; up and down, up and 
down, they danced, just out of his reach. 

Once Spot leaped at them, only to fall back 
into the water with a splash. He never dreamed 
that his every movement was now being studied 
by a pair of human eyes. Gliding close to a 
mossy log, fanning with his pink gills slowly, 
Spot was almost tempted for a moment to leap 
the waterfall and visit the home pool again. 
He heard a strange movement near by, which 
sounded exactly like his neighbor, the brown 
water-rat, when he slapped his tail upon the 
water. The trout sidled out from the bank a 
trifle. No, neither the water-rat nor even the 
yellow-spotted turtle were to be seen. 

" Swish, swish," sounded something close by. 
Of course it was just the silken flight of some 
bird's wing ; he had often heard the sound be- 
fore. The next moment Spot's eyes fairly gog- 
gled in his head ; they had fixed themselves 
greedily upon a strange, fascinating insect which 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 291 

had settled right in the middle of the pool. He 
must be quick, or the old pickerel would pounce 
upon it first. Like a dart he propelled himself 
through the water, beneath the spot where the 
wonderful insect floated so tantalizingly. Such 
a gorgeous, remarkable gnat it appeared to be ; 
its head of bright red, its wings a shadowy 
blue. The trout stared and stared at it with 
bulging, expectant eyes. The insect gave a dart, 
as if making ready for flight. Hesitating no 
longer, the trout rose, gave a swift snap, and the 
next moment was being deftly played upon a 
hook by the skilful fisherman who had been 
angling for him very patiently a long, long 
while. 

Of course the remainder of the trout family 
never knew what happened to Spot, and in a 
few days they had forgotten all about him. For 
with the return of the beautiful spring days 
the brook's banks were simply crowded with 
wonderful happenings. In the edges of the 
waterways, where the brook was shallow and 
muddy, now frolicked whole colonies of little 
black polliwogs. Already half-grown tadpoles 
were climbing the tall green rushes, and the 
marshes were simply alive with " peepers," 
which shrilled their early spring songs. Over 



292 WILD KINDRED OF 

among the raised tussocks of the swamp, occa- 
sionally sounded a deep " zoom, zoom," which 
plainly showed that now the giant, grandfather 
frogs were waking up. The yellow-spotted tur- 
tle and her numerous family had left their warm 
mud bed, and when the sun came out you 
might see them warming their spotted shells 
upon a near-by log. 

With the approach of warmer days, the trout 
family began their annual travels, for sometimes 
the little mountain streams run shallow, or dry 
up wholly, and it is their custom to seek deeper 
water during the summer months. Speckly 
was now almost full-grown, and a very independ- 
ent young trout. He soon left his parents to 
mate with a young trout of his own age. Life 
was vastly more exciting for him now, down in 
the mill-pond, where he had decided to spend 
the summer. Speckly missed the fun of leaping 
the waterfall, but then, he soon learned to love 
the loud rushing sound of the mighty water, as 
it tore madly over the great dam. The place 
was far more roomy, with many secret spots 
where one might hide when danger threatened. 
On the other hand, there were strangers in the 
mill-pond of whom he was afraid. Great, brown 
water-snakes that cut through the water like 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 293 

whips, whole colonies of water-rats and a mink. 
They played in the water upon moonlight 
nights, swimming across, leaving long, silvery 
wakes, squeaking playfully to one another, as 
they chased in and out of secret passageways 
underground, which led from hut to hut. Now 
all this happy, peaceful life might have gone on 
forever, I suspect, but it didn't, because a terri- 
ble calamity came to the waterways, which 
changed everything. 

Far back upon the side of a mountain, per- 
haps a hundred miles away, the first trouble 
started. It began with the breaking up and 
melting of a giant snow-drift, which had lasted 
into late spring. Then the rain took a hand, 
and thus the terrible freshet was started. Grad- 
ually it grew and spread, forming new, strange 
currents, until you never would have recognized 
the little brook. Finally, as the torrent in- 
creased, it came to the mill-dam ; there it gath- 
ered fresh strength, and one night it tore right 
through, sweeping dam and all ahead of it, 
spreading itself out upon the meadow like a 
wide lake. 

Now the freshet had taken everybody by sur- 
prise ; even the old brown water-rat was not 
prepared ; usually he knew all about such 



294 WILD KINDRED OF 

things, and would often move his hut prudently 
higher, away from the water line. But who 
ever dreamed that the great dam would be swept 
away ? The water-rats, in company with other 
furry things which had been caught by the 
water, managed to reach a friendly log, to which 
they clung until the flood swept past them. At 
last, slowly, the waters began to recede, and little 
stray islands began to poke up through the 
water. Then in every hollow spot you might 
see the trapped and drowned ones, the dwellers 
along the waterways. High and dry were left 
the trout family. The old fish were nearly 
dead, but Speckly, though very uncomfortable, 
was still alive. Oh, if he only could manage to 
reach the water again ! In desperation he be- 
gan to thrash and flop about. Soon the hot sun 
would come out ; then he would be done for. 
Besides, already the swift wings of scavengers 
along the waterways were following the trail of 
the flood. Flocks of crows screamed jubilantly 
as they viewed the waiting feast below them ; 
the long-legged herons, and cruel gray hawks 
were already fishing greedily. 

As Speckly lay there gasping weakly, sud- 
denly the grasses were pushed aside and his old 
neighbor, the brown water-rat, poked his head 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 295 

cautiously out. He had lost his mate in the 
freshet and was seeking her everywhere. First 
his nose appeared, somewhat battered it was too, 
then two bright beady eyes, then his whole body 
crept forth. His hair lay flat and mud-caked 
against his sides, and he was very weary and 
terrified. Seeing the way clear, he took courage, 
began to comb out his tangled whiskers, and 
tried to launder his mud-caked fur coat. Just 
then a strangely familiar, beguiling squeak came 
from a half-submerged tussock, and with his 
toilet half finished, the water-rat dove hastily 
off into the water. The sound of splashing water, 
near at hand, filled the stranded trout with fresh 
hope. He managed to flop a trifle nearer the 
stream, a tiny thread, all that remained of the 
brook. A terrifying shadow suddenly hovered 
overhead, and a shrill whistle of triumph 
sounded. The gray hawk was after him. 

Speckly decided quickly to outwit him. Re- 
membering his old leaping game of the water- 
fall, he gave several mighty leaps. Again and 
again he leaped. The shadow was lowering. 
One more brave leap, and Speckly, the trout, 
had entered the water and hidden himself be- 
neath a stone. He was quite safe at last. 

The mill-dam has never been rebuilt, for long 



296 WILD KINDRED OF 

ago they ceased to grind corn with its old-fash- 
ioned stones. If you go there some day, you 
may be able to see Speckly for yourself. Beauti- 
ful beyond words is this beautiful brook trout. 
His body shades gradually from a faint pink to 
pearly white below. His gills are bright red, 
while across his back and sides, are scattered 
eighteen, fascinating black and red dots. Be- 
cause of this clear description I am sure you 
will recognize Speckly of the waterways, the 
largest, handsomest trout now living in the old 
mill-pond. 



XXII 

THE TAMING OF BOB WHITE 

STRANGE as it may appear, young Bob 
White had two mothers. The first little 
mother quail built her nest in the edge of the 
deep woods upon the ground, in a clump of tall, 
fragrant ferns. The brave father quail, after 
the eggs came, took his turn at hatching out 
the brood. The nesting place appeared safe 
enough, being hidden by such tall ferns that 
you never would have expected to find a whole 
nest full of quail eggs there. Of course, while 
the mother quail was busy with the eggs, she 
had not noticed that Hawahak, the great brown 
hawk, had built her nest that same season in 
the crotch of a certain tall pine in the edge of 
the forest. Often, she would peer curiously 
down, with her keen golden eyes, watching the 
innocent quail family at their home-making. 

One day, after the young hawks were hatched, 
their parents went sailing far and wide, hunt- 
ing food for them. Impatiently they searched, 

299 



300 WILD KINDKED OF 

sending down their shrill screams, hunting 
everywhere. Finally, the sharp eyes of Haw- 
ahak alighted upon the round, plump back of 
the little mother quail, away down in her nest 
among the tall ferns. A swerve of the barred 
wings, one low, silent swoop, and only the nest, 
full of snowy eggs, was left ; the little brooding 
mother quail was gone ; the nest was unpro- 
tected and alone. 

Thus did small Bob White lose his real mother, 
and he never would have had another, only, by 
good luck, another pair of eyes had been watch- 
ing the hawk, and knew of the little tragedy 
which had taken place. The farmer's boy, fol- 
lowed by his yellow dog, pushed his way through 
the tall ferns and the dog soon scented out the 
quail's nest. 

" Great Scott ! " exclaimed the boy. " What 
a find ! A nest chock full of quail's eggs." And 
the yellow dog, taking all the credit to himself 
for discovering them, leaped and barked frantic- 
ally about the nest. The eggs were still warm, 
for the little mother quail's feathers had covered 
them but a few moments before. 

" That mean, old hawk," commented the 
boy ; " he's gone off with the mother quail, just 
as he comes to my young chickens and steals 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 301 

'em." Then the boy decided to take the eggs, 
because, as he reasoned, " some old weasel or 
black snake, or the old snapping turtle I saw 
back in the woods, will find them if I don't." 
So he gathered the eggs carefully, and placing 
them in the crown of his old straw hat, took 
them home. Now, as it chanced, " Old Speckly," 
his pet hen, desired to set, and so persistent had 
she been about it, that many times the boy, who 
had not wished her to, had tried to make her 
forget all about it. But it was no use, for when 
Speckly made up her mind to do anything, she 
usually did ; even dipping her head first into 
the rain barrel had not changed her determina- 
tion to set. She was so cross and ugly at being 
disturbed, that she would ruffle up her feathers 
and utter the ugliest, hoarsest noises. The boy 
concluded now, that old Speckly should have 
the quail eggs to hatch out — that is, if she hadn't 
changed her mind about setting. She had not. 
And when the boy went to find her, he had a 
long search before he discovered where she had 
hidden herself; finally, he spied her away under 
the barn, calmly sitting upon one perfectly good 
egg and another, of imitation china. In spite of 
her anger, her sharp pecks at his hands, and the 
nipping away of a bit of flesh, the boy pulled 



302 WILD KINDRED OF 

the indignant Speckly from her place. After 
making a nice nest for her of clean straw, he 
put the fifteen quail eggs and the one hen's egg 
into the new nest. To his great joy, Mrs. Speckly, 
as soon as she saw a whole nest full of eggs be- 
fore her, calmly and with deep clucks of con- 
tentment and triumph settled herself upon the 
nest, gently tucking each egg carefully out of 
sight beneath her soft feathers. 

As it happened, some of the quail eggs had 
become chilled too greatly, so they did not hatch 
out, and old Speckly raised only one chicken and 
three little quail. Her disposition was so happy, 
that she was as much pleased over the small brood 
of four, as she might have been over sixteen. 
She certainly proved herself to be a faithful 
mother, and worried much over the little quail, 
who were so tiny that she easily lost sight of 
them among the tall grass. At such times she 
would rush frantically about, searching every- 
where for them and calling. She never wearied 
of scratching out grubs and dainties for them, 
which they, from the first, seemed to prefer, 
instead of the insipid chicken mush which the 
chicks enjoyed. 

When it was time to leave the small coop, and 
go back with the larger fowls to roost at night, 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 303 

old Speckly was still anxious about her four 
chicks. She would go into the roost and call 
and urge the three little quail to mount up 
beside her on the high perch. This the young 
chicken of the brood would do, but from the 
first, the others, who had been strangely unlike 
him, would never do ; they always preferred to 
roost low upon the ground. In the first place, 
old Speckly noticed that the little quails' legs 
had not lengthened as had the larger chick's ; 
perhaps they could not climb as well. She 
would climb clumsily to the perch each night, 
and her awkward, long-legged son would perch 
beside her, often crowding her so rudely, that 
she frequently had to give him a sharp peck on 
his head to teach him manners. Then, " Cluck, 
cluck, cluck " she would call, peering down over 
the perch at the other three, which had followed 
her into the house. Sometimes, in her anxiety 
for their safety, she would even venture to climb 
down heavily from her perch, upsetting the 
important red rooster and his family, who 
would set up angry squawks of protest. With 
all her clucking, the little quails never followed 
her; they would call back softly to her, little 
reassuring " Peep, peep, peep's " from the dusky 
shadows below, content to huddle together in a 



304 WILD KINDRED OF 

bunch and sleep upon the floor. It happened 
that an old gray rat was busy gnawing his way 
from the granary into the hen-house. Some- 
times the old red rooster and the hens would 
hear the rasp, rasp, rasping of his sharp teeth in 
the night, and taking sudden alarm would 
cackle and flutter and fall off their perches, 
making such a disturbance. In spite of alert 
hearing, they were all asleep the night the old 
rat finally did gnaw through the last board into 
the coop. Old Speckly discovered, the next 
morning, that she had left, but two of her brood : 
the long-legged chick, and one little quail ; the 
old gray rat had carried off the other two. He 
did not come back another night for little Bob 
White ; luckily the farmer's boy caught the old 
rat and so put an end to his mischief. 

That season Bob White wintered with the 
fowls, and watched his foster-brother, Red Top, 
as the farmer's boy had named him, grow into 
an impudent young rooster. Such long, bony 
yellow legs as he had, and he appeared so 
ungainly when he ran. Besides, Red Top 
developed such a hateful disposition ; he loved 
to frighten and bully those smaller and younger 
than himself, and was always jealous of little 
Bob White, for some reason — perhaps, because 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 305 

old Speckly showed him too much attention. 
Sometimes he would sight another, smaller 
chicken from across the yard, especially at feed- 
ing time; then he would lunge across upon his 
long, stilt-like legs, and placing himself directly 
in front of his adversary, would look him 
squarely in the eye and dare him to fight. If 
food was thrown to the fowls, Red Top would 
always manage, because of his long legs, to 
scramble in ahead of the little ones, and gobble 
up such a quantity of grain, without even paus- 
ing to swallow, that even after all was gathered, 
he would stand quite uncomfortably about, 
vainly trying to swallow that which he had 
bolted far too quickly, because of his greediness. 
No wonder then, that he got the very best of all 
the pickings of the yard ; and as for poor little 
Bob White — he had to take what he could find. 
Bob White refused from the first, to fight with 
Red Top, bully of the yard. Nothing seemed 
to delight the impudent fellow more than to 
chase and hustle Bob about, pecking at him and 
worrying the little quail, often nipping out 
feathers. Sometimes the watchful eye of old 
Speckly herself saw him ; then she would chase 
him about and peck at him sharply, for his im- 
pudence. Taking it altogether the life of little 



306 WILD KINDKED OF 

Bob White was not so very happy. He craved 
the wild, open life, which he should have been 
living in his natural haunts, for it is said one 
never can wholly tame or domesticate a quail. 

Early in the spring there came a change, for 
Bob White was now a full grown bird. Of 
course, he never would have long legs like his 
foster-brother, Red Top, but oh, he was far, far 
handsomer, and each day saw him gaining in 
courage. By this time Bob White's feathers 
were thick, and of a glossy, cinnamon brown 
upon his back, barred off with white. His little, 
sleek head was crested with darker brown ; over 
his eyes ran a line of pure white, while his neck 
was of a dazzling snowiness, marked sharply 
with a wonderful black crescent. His breast 
feathers were all sprinkled over with little 
marks like arrow-heads, and his eyes were of a 
melting bronze hue. It was a great day in the 
yard, the first time little Bob White found his 
voice and used it, surprising even himself. First, 
he sounded the alarm cry of the quail. 

" Chut, chut, chut," he called sharply, and 
the cry was so strange, that the stupid fowls, 
never suspecting that Bob White had found his 
voice, all cocked their eyes skyward to see what 
strange kind of a hawk might be sailing over 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 307 

the yard. Even before they had gotten over 
their first surprise, the quail called again. 

" Chut, chut, chut ; " then : " Bob white ! bob 
white! bob-bob-white! " he called plaintively. 
The startled fowls stared, astonished, to see old 
Speckly's strange chick mounted upon the roof 
of the coop, his little crested head raised proudly, 
as he called and called, " Bob white ! bob white ! " 
again and again. Old Speckly herself clucked 
anxiously for him to fly down to her, but little 
Bob White flirted his short, barred wings at them 
all and was off and away, for somewhere, beyond 
the purple hills, he had caught a faint Bob 
White call, and had flown to find his kindred. 

At first, the little lonely quail, partially do- 
mesticated, had a hard time, and missed the 
companionship of the fowls, for it seemed 
strangely lonely off in the great woods with no 
friends about him. Still, he enjoyed the won- 
derful deep, secluded places where he nested 
alone at night, for always he had hated the 
closed-in coop, with the fowls. Besides, now he 
could forage for himself, and had not to share 
everything with Red Top, the greedy. He loved 
the small, sweet berries, and the little, nutty 
seeds in the edges of the woods. Soon he grew 
very plump and glossy, but search and call as 



308 WILD KINDEED OF 

he might, he could never seem to find any of 
his tribe. In time, he learned to look out for 
the perils which lurked about in the forest, and 
one day, when he had flown to a convenient log, 
to break open a hawberry, suddenly, in front of 
him, appeared a swaying, jet black head, and he 
found himself looking into a pair of evil, beady 
eyes, and caught the flicker of a sharp forked 
red tongue. All this, as little Bob White 
looked, began to make him strangely dizzy, and 
he felt himself giving up to the thing before 
him. Suddenly the black snake tightened its 
coils, and in an instant would have seized Bob 
White. The snake raised its ugly head still 
higher, hissing sharply, when, as the little quail 
forgot everything, a strange thing happened. 
Some one else had been watching the snake ; a 
whirl of great, barred wings, and a large hawk 
swept down and snatched the snake in its 
strong, sharp talons. Bob White did not stop 
to see if the snake got free, but went whirring 
swiftly away, uttering his sharp alarm, " Chut, 
chut, chut," as he flew. 

At last, when the fall days began to lengthen, 
and the berries turned red in the hedges, Bob 
White managed to join a covey of his kindred. 
They did not migrate far south when the other 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 309 

birds went, but sought instead, a sheltered cove 
by the sea. Here, when the warm, sunny days 
come, one may see them beneath some sheltering 
bower of coarse beach grass, taking their dust 
bath, huddling closely and affectionately to- 
gether when the winds blow keen and strong. 
When the snows begin to drift, the covey will 
find a retreat back farther, in the dense cedar 
thickets, where clusters of purple cedar berries 
grow, fragrant and plentiful. In the spring, 
when the bluebirds and swallows come back, 
down in the salt marshes, where the great pink 
marshmallows blossom, and the cat-tails and 
rushes grow, you may catch a glimpse of our 
little quail, whom old Speckly could never 
tame, as he calls across the meadows : " Chut, 
chut, chut ! Bob white, bob-bob-white ! " 




N EAGLE IEKE 



XXIII 

TEAPPED ON EAGLE LEDGE 

"T'D like to be a Scout and go into camp 
A with the boys this summer," spoke Fred 
Benton wistfully, as he and his friends tinkered 
over an old boat down by the river ; " but I guess 
I can't — not this season anyhow," he added 
dejectedly. 

" Well, why can't you, I'd like to know? I 
think it's mean," broke in another boy in a 
disappointed tone, for they had all been talking 
over the proposed trip to the Adirondack woods. 

11 Couldn't afford to get a suit, first place, and 
the ticket costs lots too ; no, I just can't go along," 
sighed Fred. "My folks ain't rich like most of 
the other boys' are, and besides father has been out 
of work a month. I have to give mother all my 
Saturday Evening Post money now, to help out." 

44 Well, anyhow, it's a shame you can't go ; of 
course we fellows wouldn't have teased you to 
go if we'd known," spoke Rob Marks, pityingly. 
14 We thought you made lots of money selling 

313 



314 WILD KINDRED OF 

Posts and doing errands ; we are always allowed 
to keep all we earn." 

The boys dropped the matter, and went to 
work with a will, bailing out the old boat. 
They had found the old punt half-submerged in 
the water, and as no one put in a claim for it, 
they dragged it ashore, planned to repaint and 
own it together. It would do very well to go 
crabbing with and to fish in, just off-shore. 

" I've got a dandy name for our boat," an- 
nounced Rob ; " let's call her ' The Scout ' ; we'll 
paint it on her, in big red letters." 

" Good work," seconded Ted. Afterward the 
boys spent much time down by the river with 
their boat. All the other boys came there to 
swim on hot days. Besides, the fishing was 
good and there were plenty of crabs — big, blue 
fellows, that nipped bare toes sometimes. Then, 
over beyond, about two miles across the river, 
towered the Palisades, one of the wonders of 
nature — a range of mountains fifteen miles long, 
their summits perfectly level and flat, rising like 
great, massive carved towers out of the water. 
In spite of village industries upon one side of 
the broad Hudson, the Palisade side still re- 
mained unsettled, in places a perfect wilderness. 

" Look, look I " shouted Rob ; " there's an 



FUR, FEATHER AXD FIX 315 

eagle over there ! See," pointing, " it's right 
over against the Palisades now. They've made 
their nest over on that steep ledge there every 
summer ; it's called Eagle Ledge now ; and 
it's an awful wild place. See, there he goes ! " 

"Ain't it a big sea-gull or a hawk, Rob?" 
suggested Ted, screening his eyes to sight the 
bird. 

" Gull nothing," interrupted Rob, impatiently ; 
" it's an eagle all right, and a mighty big one 
too." 

" It is ; Rob's right. It's an eagle," affirmed 
Ted, eagerly. " It's a baldhead too. See! He's 
chasing a gull now, fighting with him and try- 
ing to take away a fish." And the boys watched 
the battle of the eagle and gull with much 
interest. 

" Say, fellows, I got an idea," broke in Ted 
excitedly. " Why couldn't we go across and 
hunt up the eagle's nest?" 

" Huh ! If there were young eagles over 
there in the nest, the old birds wouldn't do a 
thing to you, I guess," remarked his brother 
idly, as he stuck to his job of stopping leaky 
places in the old boat. 

" Yes, but it'd pay to get a few scratches, 
wouldn't it, if you could get a live young eagle ? " 



316 WILD KINDRED OF 

persisted Ted. " I read in the paper that they 
want eagles down to Bronx Park ; they lost the 
only specimen of a baldhead they had in the 
park, this winter. The park people would pay 
good money for a live eagle, a young one." 

" Oh, never mind about your old eagles now," 
grumbled Rob; " let's launch The Scout; she 
don't leak so very much now, and we can paint 
in her name to-morrow. Say, can't we just have 
packs of fun with her? We can't go across in 
her though, I guess, but she didn't cost us a cent, 
and when we go off this summer to camp, Fred 
can use her. Say, I certainly wish you ivere 
going with the crowd. Most all the boys in our 
class are Scouts now." 

" Well, I can't, that's all," replied Fred. 
" And say, fellows, good-bye ! I'm off after my 
papers ; it's late," and Fred was soon out of 
sight. 

That night he came home late, tired out, and 
as usual, handed his paper money to his mother. 
After supper he was so tired he went straight to 
bed. Somehow he couldn't sleep, however, for 
down in the village that evening he had run 
across a crowd of the bo} T s, all talking over the 
coming outing, and admiring a display of Scouts' 
suits — everything a boy could possibly want for 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 317 

a camping trip. That night Fred tossed about 
and dreamed. Between his dreams there came 
to him a wonderful plan, showing him just the 
way he might earn a large sum of money. He 
would cross the Hudson, find the eagle's nest, 
and then, if there were young birds in the nest, 
as he suspected, he determined to capture them 
and sell them to the park. He must not tell a 
soul of his plan, for even now some crafty, ex- 
perienced hunter, having read that the park 
eagle was dead, might be planning to capture 
the eagles on Eagle Ledge. But how could he 
ever manage to go across without hiring a boat? 
Why, of course — The Scout ; he hadn't thought 
of the old boat. 

Some one would have to go along to bail her 
out, she leaked so badly. Instantly he thought 
of Mollie, his little sister. She would be game 
for any sort of a lark — good as a boy, and even 
better, because she could keep secrets. He re- 
solved to wait until Saturday, starting at day- 
light, before any of the boys came down to the 
river ; then no one would see them get off. Be- 
sides, that would be the best time probably to 
visit the nest, because the old eagles would be 
off after food the first thing in the morning. 

During the week Fred told Mollie his plans, 



318 WILD KINDHED OF 

and between them they arranged everything. 
Early Saturday morning they slipped quietly 
away from the house and down to the river 
even before the thick mists had lifted from its 
waters. Fred brought along his mother's 
clothes-line, and a good-sized gunny sack to put 
the young eagles in, should there be young 
in the nest, and he was lucky enough to get 
them. 

Soon they were in the boat, with Fred pull- 
ing manfully at the oars. The leaky old craft 
was somewhat hard to manage, and soon Mollie 
had all she could do to bail the water out, for 
as soon as they struck heavy water, and the tide. 
The Scout began to leak worse. The tide was 
running very swiftly as they reached the center 
of the great river, and now Fred had hard work 
keeping the boat headed in the right direction. 
His arms ached fearfully, but he dared not stop 
pulling a second, for fear of being caught in the 
swift currents and wrecked. 

" Right over there we better land," directed 
Fred. "I've been watching the eagles for a 
week, and think their nest is just about half-way 
up that cliff." Slowly but surely, they drew 
nearer and nearer the shore, and final]} 7 the 
pinkish, purple-shadowed walls of the great 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 319 

Palisades loomed through the mists right above 
them. 

" Look, sis, the eagles are right up there, that 
awful high place. I can almost see their nest 
now ; it's on kind of a little, narrow shelf; that 
dark spot away up high — see it?" and Fred 
pointed it out to his sister. 

They both saw the place plainly, and even as 
they watched a great eagle spread its wide wings 
and circled out over the water. Fred pulled in 
the old boat, and the spot where they landed 
seemed a very desolate place, a fitting haunt for 
eagles or almost any wild thing. 

They found a rough trail, running slant-wise, 
toward the top of the mountain, and started out 
for its flat summit. Only from the top might 
the eagle's nest be reached. As soon as they 
reached it, by lying down flat, and leaning far 
over the edge of the cliff, which fell straight 
down fully five hundred feet to the water, they 
could command a view of what lay below them. 

Here and there against the smooth face of the 
cliffs grew a few stunted shrubs which clung to 
the bare rocks, but no trees. About midway of 
the cliff they spied Eagle Ledge, covered with 
what appeared to be an untidy litter of drift- 
wood and sticks — it was the eagle's nest. 



320 WILD KINDRED OF 

" Look ! Look, sis ! it's the nest ! There it 
is ! " exclaimed Fred, excitedly. " Don't even 
stir. See, there's one old eagle now. My, ain't 
he just huge ? He's got a fish ! See it glisten ! 
There's sure to be young eaglets in the nest 
down there. Look ! He's bringing the fish 
right to the nest ; he's feeding them." Sure 
enough, the children could plainly hear, from 
their hiding-place upon the cliff, the clamorous 
noise of young eaglets as they were being fed. 
Meantime, Fred began to busy himself with his 
rope. Doubling it, he tied one end to a very 
tough sapling, and found it would be just about 
long enough to reach the nest below. 

11 Guess I'll take a club along when I go down, 
in case I have to fight off the old eagles," said 
Fred. " I can stick it into my belt, tie the bag 
around my waist, then my hands'll be free to 
slide down the rope. I can shin up again easy 
enough. Got my ' sneaks ' on ; they'll help." 

Mollie was afraid to have him go, but Fred 
reassured her, making light of the adventure. 
They waited quite a while for the old eagle to 
leave its nest, and finally it sailed away ; but 
not until it was a mere speck in the sky did 
Fred finally launch himself out over the edge 
of the cliff. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 321 

" Oh, oh, Fred, I'm afraid, I'm afraid," wailed 
Mollie. " What if the rope breaks, Fred? Oh, 
do hang on tight," she called down, lying flat 
and watching her brother as he swung dizzily 
out away from the cliff. 

"Don't you worry ; I'm all right," he called 
back bravely. " Only keep quiet ; don't yell 
again, or the old birds will hear you and come 
back before I'm ready for them. I'll be back in 
a jiffy. They're here ; they're here ! I see 
'em — the young eagles," he called up to her. 
" There's three of 'em. I'll get 'em, sis." 

Just as Fred had almost gained the nest, he 
heard a quick, sharp cry of warning from above ; 
Mollie was calling. 

" Fred, Fred, hurry ! Oh, do hurry ! The 
old eagle's coming ; it's another one ; it's com- 
ing from another direction, back to the ledge," 
called down Mollie frantically. 

Sure enough, a glance showed Fred that the 
mate was returning ; every instant its great, 
wide wings were sweeping nearer and nearer the 
ledge, and Fred realized, only too well, that he 
would stand no chance whatever in a hand-to- 
hand battle with the eagle, on that bare wall-like 
cliff. Just then his foot touched the edge of the 
shelving rock where the nest was, but he broke 



322 WILD KINDRED OF 

through the debris, sending a great mass of 
refuse, twigs and stones down below, and rous- 
ing the young eaglets, who set up shrill screams 
of alarm. The next thing, the motion of Fred's 
body started the rope whirling. 

" Oh, Fred, don't wriggle about so. Can't 
you stop the rope whirling ? It's most worn 
through ; it's going to break. Oh ! Oh ! " 
screamed Mollie in an agony of fear. 

Back swung Fred against the cliff, and not 
an instant too soon. He touched the rocks, 
and somehow managed to dig his fingers into a 
crevice. Would the rock break away? It held, 
and very fortunate for Fred that it did, .for the 
next moment the rope had parted, sawn in two 
by the sharp rocks against which it had rubbed, 
and the free end went spinning out into space, 
leaving Fred clinging to the face of the rock. 
Fortune favored him, for he found himself a few 
feet away from the eagle's nest, and by crawling 
very warily, he managed to reach another shelf- 
like projection from which sprouted a stunted 
cedar shrub. Lucky for him that the bush 
served as a partial screen, for just then came a 
mighty rushing of wings, a hissing sound, and 
Fred felt the cool air, as the great eagle fanned 
him, alighting upon its nest. Sick, dizzy, and 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 323 

trembling in every bone, Fred lay flat upon the 
ledge, which was just about wide enough for his 
body ; he was quite cut off from above by a 
projecting rock, so his sister could not see him. 

" Oh, Fred, where are you? I can't see you, 
Fred. Are you down there? " screamed Mollie, 
thinking her brother had fallen off the ledge. 

" All right, Mollie ; don't you fret," called up 
Fred, rather faintly. " Got a dandy little shelf 
to lie on. But, sis, you'll have to go bring some 
help to get me out of this scrape. Go bring a 
strong rope, and hurry, sis." 

When Mollie reached the foot of the Palisades, 
and found the old boat, it was almost half full 
of water. She bailed it out, working frantic- 
ally ; then picking up the heavy oars, she 
started to row across the river for help. She 
strained her eyes up at the cliff, but could not 
see her brother. What if he had fallen into the 
water ? Perhaps he had fainted. Oh, but she 
must hurry. Soon her hands were blistered and 
bleeding ; suddenly she began to feel water 
about her feet ; soon it was over her shoe tops ; 
she must bail. So bail she did, but the old tub 
began-to drift off-shore in the heavy current. 
Mollie began to shout and scream in terror. At 
last her shrill cries were answered, and a boat 



324 WILD KINDRED OF 

put off from the other side, to her aid. It was 
Ted and Rob Marks ; they had been down to the 
shore to look for The Scout. As soon as Mollie 
could explain, they hurried back to the boat 
house for a stout rope ; then, accompanied by a 
man, they rowed toward the Palisades. 

When they arrived at the top, Mollie pointed 
down the cliff to where Fred had disappeared, 
and they saw something waving far below. Fred 
had tied the gunny sack to a stick, and was sig- 
naling to them. They let down the stout rope 
from above, calling out to Fred to sit in the 
loop, and they would draw him up. Out swung 
the rope over the ledge, and soon Fred was seated 
in the loop. 

" Swing me out over this way toward Eagle 
Ledge," called up Fred. 

The next moment Fred found himself dan- 
gling close beside the eagle's nest. There lay the 
young eaglets, and they were alone, for the old 
birds had flown off again. Working very 
quickly, lest the old birds should come back 
again, Fred opened the bag with his free hands, 
grabbed one squawking, scrawny eaglet, then 
another and another, and although they bit and 
scratched, he soon had them safe in the bag, 
then signaled to be drawn up. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 325 

Three weeks later when the local Boy Scouts 
started for camp, they marched through the vil- 
lage, headed by the high school band, each Scout 
wearing his new uniform proudly, and one of 
the happiest boys of the company was a certain 
new Scout. Can you guess his name? 




f SILVER BiDSI SA' 
LT 



XXIV 

HOW SILVER BRUSH SAVED HIS PELT 

DICK HUNTLEY lived in a Canadian lum- 
ber camp, where his father was superin- 
tendent of the loggers. Necessarily, Dick's 
schooling had been neglected, because there 
were no schools up there in the great forests. 
Dick made up for his lack of book learning by 
his wonderful knowledge of wood lore. He 
could tell you the exact spot where the hoot 
owl built her nest, right in the heart of Balsam 
Swamp ; he knew where a bobcat had her den, 
and when she had kittens ; he could imitate the 
short, sharp bark of a fox, so that even Red- 
brush himself was often deceived, and would 
halt in his tracks to listen. 

Oh, there was knowledge a plenty to be 
found in the woods, if one had a keen sense for 
Nature and her ways, besides sharp eyes. There 
were myriads of hidden, wild trails to be ex- 
plored, there in the beautiful spruce country, 
where the giant trees almost seem to touch the 

329 



330 WILD KINDRED OF 

blue sky with their sharp, pointed tops. Away 
down below run the trails, the hidden coverts 
of the wild, furry tribes, fox, bobcat, lynx, 
badger, and the dull-witted hedgehog family. 

All about the camp it was clear, but back of 
the slash, or where the timber had been thinned 
out, were dense forests. Away up on the moun- 
tainside in a little clearing, stood the rickety 
remains of a trapper's hut. Not far from this 
were traces of a beaver dam, deserted long ago. 
But all along the mountain stream lived colonies 
of muskrats, less wary than the beavers. There 
they had built their mud huts, trustingly, and 
Dick often watched them. 

Higher up in the forest, back of the old trap- 
per's hut, ran a little loamy clearing, where a 
red fox had made her burrow. It was early 
spring when Dick, tramping over his favorite 
preserves, first discovered the home of Mrs. Red- 
brush ; and as fox pelts were valuable, he deter- 
mined to keep his find a secret ; he delighted to 
visit the spot often, and one day in April he had 
his reward. Warily creeping nearer and nearer 
the burrow, being very careful not to break even 
a twig, and keeping to the windward that they 
might not scent his presence, he saw a wonder- 
ful sight. There were four little fox cubs about 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 331 

the size of collie pups, and covered with a sort 
of reddish, woolly far, playing just outside their 
burrow, with their mother. They were so cun- 
ning, such playful little things, rolling and 
tumbling over each other in the sunshine, that 
Dick stayed to watch them a long while. He 
did so, whenever he came near the burrow. 

Usually one of the old foxes remained with 
them, but as the cubs grew in size, they required 
more food, and unable to forage for themselves, 
both the old ones would go off for food. At first 
they brought back to the burrow young, tender 
fare : field-mice, a partridge or young muskrat, 
or an occasional bird. Dick never wearied 
watching the little foxes worry and growl and 
maul over their game, tussling together like 
kittens over it, always ending up good-naturedly 
in a regular frolic, tossing feathers into the air, 
and playing with a blue jay's wing for hours. 
But in spite of all their fun making, they still 
remained, by nature, foxes ; for they were always 
on the alert, ever ready to scent danger or the 
presence of an enemy. Well enough Mrs. Red- 
brush knew how to warn them. Dick soon 
learned that she gave a new and peculiar cry 
when she wished to signal danger. This cry 
was not the usual short, sharp bark of the fox, 



332 WILD KINDRED OF 

but a regular alarm cry which sounded like 
" Yur, yur, yur-yap ! " Whenever the cubs 
heard this warning cry, even if their mother 
gave it while off some distance in the forest, no 
matter how hard they might be playing to- 
gether, instantly the cubs were alert, would 
cease their fun, and huddle close together in the 
burrow for safety. After a little practice, Dick 
managed to imitate this alarm cry of the old 
fox. So well did he succeed, that often, just for 
sport, while watching the cubs from his hiding 
place, he would give the call, to watch the little 
foxes hustle inside the burrow. 

For many reasons Dick decided to keep the 
fox burrow a secret, one being, that over on the 
edge of the lumber camp there lived a half breed 
boy, Joe. This boy had all the natural crafti- 
ness of his Indian ancestors, and made a good 
business of trapping, in season, selling man}' 
pelts to traders. 

If Dick himself had at first thought of trap- 
ping his family of foxes for their pelts, he soon 
gave up that idea, for, to tell the truth, the 
more he saw of the happy little family of Mrs. 
Redbrush, the more did he become attached to 
them, which forbade the killing of his pets for 
their fur. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 333 

By the time fall came, the cubs were half 
grown foxes, and able to take the trail and forage 
for themselves, as well as the old ones. In fact, 
Dick discovered that the old foxes had actually 
deserted them. At last two of the larger cubs 
also left the burrow, and roamed off by them- 
selves, or perhaps had been shot in their wander- 
ing life. So now there were but two young 
foxes left, one of them a slim little thing, with 
a bright red coat, but the other one the strangest 
looking specimen of a fox Dick had ever seen. 
In fact he was queer, not at all resembling his 
brothers and sisters, or any fox ever seen in that 
section. Every time Dick saw him, he seemed 
to change in appearance. 

The weather soon grew keen and frosty ; with 
the bright red coloring of the maple leaves, and 
the autumnal tintings, came a still greater change 
in the coat of the queer fox. Larger and lustier 
he grew in body, becoming nearly twice the size 
of the little slim red fox. His woolly coat had 
been replaced by one of deep, dark, glossy fur. 
Each day, as the weather grew keener and 
colder, did this wonderful coat darken and 
deepen, until it was almost a glossy black ; 
while each long, silken hair was tipped off with 
white, until finally the whole beautiful coat ap- 



334 WILD KINDRED OF 

peared to be actually silvered over with a white 
frosting, and his wonderful brush, usually car- 
ried proudly high, ended in a tuft of snow white 
fur. Because of this silvery plume of a brush, 
Dick called him Silver Brush. 

Cold days, when the sun shone, Dick often 
found Silver Brush and his companion just out- 
side their burrow, sunning themselves. Once, 
in spite of his utmost caution in reaching the 
secret covert, where he watched them, a twig 
had snapped sharply, and Silver Brush instantly 
raised his head, fixing his eyes suspiciously upon 
Dick's hiding place. Of course the boy expected 
the foxes to take fright and run inside their bur- 
row, but instead imagine his joy when Silver 
Brush, spying him, actually stared into his face 
with his beautiful golden eyes. Dick returned 
his stare for a full second ; he showed no fear 
of him. To tell the truth, Silver Brush had been 
aware of Dick's coming and going for some time, 
and now had no fear of him — he was trusted. 
With bated breath, Dick stared at the beautiful 
animal ; he admired the streak of jet black fur 
across his eyes, and the thick, glossy black of his 
neck ruff. When Silver Brush had looked Dick 
over to his satisfaction, he gave a few short, sharp 
barks, then he and his little slim red companion, 






FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 335 

trotted unconcernedly off through the thick 
spruces. After that time, Dick often caught a 
near view of his wild friends. Sometimes Silver 
Brush would even halt for a second, to stare at 
him curiously with yellow, inquisitive eyes, 
never offering to run at sight of him. 

The " moon of falling leaves " was over, the 
season of feasting, when the milky, sweet hazel- 
nuts slip from their yellow husks and are found 
and crunched by sharp white teeth ; then the 
wild, puckery cherries hang heavy, abundant 
and scarlet along the fox runs, and over the tops 
of the reddened blackberry leaves, trail wild 
grape-vines, full of sugar-sweet luscious grapes, 
which the keen frost has mellowed almost to 
bursting. What a season of feasting for all the 
fur-coated tribes ! Soon this passes, the whirring, 
winged bird colonies have migrated. And then 
comes down the cold in earnest, with its snow 
flurries ; when the ice in the early morning, films 
over the mountain brooks, so that the light, 
fleet-footed wild things break and shatter it like 
glass, in their passing. Keen and stark grows 
the cold, up there in the bleak Northern passes, 
and the lumbermen bank up their shacks with 
spruce boughs to keep out the cold. Then comes 
the season of " The Mad Moon," when the wild 



336 WILD KINDKED OF 

things of the forests lose their heads, and run far 
and wide. In November, the coats of the fur- 
bearing ones reach their glossiest finish, and full 
of high spirits, they often leave their old haunts. 
Dick had not seen his friends for weeks now, 
and he missed them greatly ; he was saddened 
by the thought that perhaps he might never see 
them again, for one day, when he had gone to 
inspect his muskrat snares, Dick found out that 
some one else shared his secret with him. He 
met Joe, the half-breed boy, who boastingly ac- 
costed him. 

" You know what I know, eh ? " greeted Joe. 
" Me, I get one fine pelt. Know why ? Think ; 
only but one pelt and I am rich. I get him. 
Silver fox pelt bring much money. I see one 
last week. I get him bimeby, sure — you wait. 
You trap the muskrat. Ha, ha ! I get one 
silver fox pelt." 

The boy, Joe, then plunged into the forest 
and was soon lost to sight, leaving Dick, trap 
in hand, staring after him in sudden dismay, 
for, like a flash, as the boy described the fox 
which he had seen, Dick knew he meant none 
other than Silver Brush. He was a genuine 
silver fox ; now he knew. Of course Dick 
knew the great value of the pelt of a silver fox. 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 337 

Why, a coat such as Silver Brush wore would 
make him almost rich ; the half-breed boy had 
not exaggerated. How they would hunt him 
now, poor fellow ! Dick could not forget the 
trusting gleam of those golden eyes, or the coax- 
ing, puppy-like turn of his head, that time when 
they had accepted each other as friends. The 
idea of hunting Silver Brush for his beautiful 
pelt now filled him with disgust. Then and 
there he made up his mind that he would outwit 
the half-breed boy ; that he should never take 
the pelt of the silver fox, not if he could prevent 
it. 

From that time on, poor Silver Brush became 
a marked fox, hunted by many, for the boy, Joe, 
had not been able to keep his secret. Once, 
after a long, cold rain, Dick caught a glimpse of 
the poor fox fleeing from his pursuers. His 
beautiful brush, usually held proudly high, 
trailed wet and heavy behind him, and Dick 
saw him halt at a stream to wash his sore, bleed- 
ing feet in running water. Then, as he suddenly 
caught the scent of the hunters, he ran on and 
on again. They did not get him that time ; he 
was far too cunning for them. 

Joe, the half-breed boy, had set many crafty 
traps for the silver fox, and somehow, in spite of 



338 WILD KINDHED OF 

himself, Dick took to watching them. It is 
against the honor of a trapper to tamper with a 
trap, or take away another's game, but there 
was no law against watching a trap. So, one 
day after a light fall of snow, which is the very 
best time to trap an animal, as the snow com- 
pletely hides the man scent about a trap, to the 
snares of Joe came Silver Brush himself. One 
of the traps had been sprung by a muskrat, and 
just because Silver Brush had run far, and was 
hungry, he ate this poor bait. Leaping lightly 
across the brook, he soon discovered a fine bit of 
fresh meat, partly covered by snow. He began 
to make circles around the baited trap, each time 
drawing a little nearer the bait, suspicious of it, 
making up his mind to sample it. Then Dick 
saw him, but the fox failed to spy him. Dick 
wished to warn the fox, but how ? If he shouted 
suddenly, the fox would very lightly crouch 
upon the trap, so, halting where he was, Dick 
kept out of sight, and instead of shouting he 
gave the alarm cry of the old mother fox. 

" Yur, yur, yur, yap," again, " Yur, yur, yur, 
yap," called Dick. Never had he imitated the 
cry better. Silver Brush raised his snout to 
listen. A third time the call came, the old, 
familiar warning cry, which the young fox had 



FUR, FEATHER AND FIN 339 

learned to obey. Then, to Dick's joy, Silver 
Brush gave a short, sharp bark of recognition. 
Instinctively fearing that the bait or surround- 
ings meant danger for him, without deigning to 
touch the bait, the fox leaped high and clear, 
right over the terrible steel trap, and bounded 
off, looking like a silver streak as he struck off 
into the forest, disappearing between the snow- 
laden spruces. That was the very last time Dick 
saw Silver Brush. 

One trace the fox left behind to show he had 
visited the traps — a tiny bit of silver tipped fur. 
That is why the half-breed boy, after visiting 
his snares, boasts, to this day, that once he found 
sure proofs that a real silver fox had visited his 
snares, and had been nearly caught by him. 
Somehow, he could never understand how, the 
fox had got away. Dick could have told him, 
but he never did. As for Silver Brush, he be- 
came very, very wary at last, and decidedly 
weary of always being on the alert, always trying 
to get away from the hunters and trappers. He 
left that dangerous location and struck off into a 
far country r where it was strange and wild. 
There unmolested and untracked by man, he 
roams in the deep coverts of the forest in peace, 
wearing, with just pride, his wonderful silver pelt. 



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